


Light 'Em Up

by imthetitanic



Series: Young Blood [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Abusive John Winchester, Angry Castiel, Angst, BAMF Castiel, Car Accidents, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Forced Suicide, Homophobia, Homophobic John, Homophobic Language, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, John Being an Asshole, John Has Issues, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Nightmares, Protective Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Self-Harm, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Notes, What Have I Done, and can't deal with feelings well, kind of, okay things got real quick, why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthetitanic/pseuds/imthetitanic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John is a homophobic and abusive "parent" and Castiel, Dean Winchester's boyfriend of one year, decides to do something about it. Drama ensues.</p><p>Previously titled "I Will Do Something."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be adding tags as I go because I didn't really plan this one out.

Sam wasn’t going to go to sleep until he heard Dean come in. But that hadn’t happened yet, and it was the night before the first day of school. John was waiting for him downstairs in the living room. If Sam’s phone hadn’t been destroyed in the last rage, he would have texted Dean. Told him to climb in through the window and avoid their father. But his phone was gone and Sam knew there was no way in hell he would go to sleep.

The door opened quietly downstairs, but if Sam could hear it, John could too. Sam strained his ears, but could not make out what John was yelling up until the distinct sound of a blow. Sam jumped out of bed and ran down the hall. As he sprinted down the stairs, he could still hear the violence. “Stop!” he yelled.

Dean was bleeding from his nose and several lacerations on his face. His green eyes met Sam’s, and he shook his head. He lay prone on the floor, John holding him down. But as Sam yelled, John rose and stared with bloodshot eyes at Sam.

John mumbled something Sam couldn’t hear and started advancing. Dean launched to his feet and threw himself in front of Sam. Damn it, of course he would do that. Sam could see Dean trembling, and knew they didn’t have long before Dean collapsed.

“This isn’t your business, Sam.” The chill in John’s voice struck Sam. Usually when John was this drunk, he couldn’t be that cold. He must be really pissed. John raised a clenched and bloody fist. That was Sam’s cue. John always hesitated a moment. Sam used this time to grip his brother’s arm and drag him stumbling up the stairs.

John’s clumping footsteps followed them, but Sam managed to pull Dean into his room and put the desk chair under the doorknob. When he turned around. Dean was unconscious on the floor. Immediately, Sam knelt beside him and checked his pockets for a phone. Not finding it there, he waited until he could hear John snoring. By the alarm clock on the nightstand it was two in the morning. Dean was still unconscious.

Sam left him in the room as he snuck downstairs, past the sleeping John, to where the cordless phone still sat on its charger (thank God). He swiped it and all but ran back up the stairs, dialing the all too familiar number as he went.

It rang four times before a tired, low voice said, “Why in the name of all that is holy are you awake?”

“Dad.” Sam grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry to wake you, Cas.”

“What did John do?” Cas sounded more alert, and there was a dangerous timbre to his (admittedly already rather intimidating) voice. 

“Dean came in late.” Sam gave a shaky sigh. “Now he’s unconscious. I’m going to have to try to wake him up so I can clean up his face in a minute. I thought I should probably warn you before you saw him. It’s a mess.”

“I will kill him.” The controlled anger in the voice sent shivers down Sam’s spine.

“You know how much Dean hates it when we mention it after the fact. Or worry about it.”

“Sam, we should be worrying. This is not something to ignore.”

“Yeah, I know. Believe me. But let’s just keep our worry to ourselves for now, shall we?”

“For now.” There was a click. Cas had hung up, leaving Sam staring at the phone in his hand.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cas saw the honey-colored hair and made a beeline for Dean at his locker, treading as softly as he could through the crowded school hallway. “Hello, Dean.” 

Dean jumped and spun around. “You are as quiet as a cat, Cas.” Dean slammed his locker shut.

“A necessary skill, I assure you. Also, you never fail to jump.” Cas forced a smile as he examined Dean’s face. Sam was right. He looked a mess. If John was going to keep hurting _his_ Dean…John wouldn’t last much longer.

Dean let out a low chuckle. “So, first day back,” he said, not looking into Cas’s eyes. “God, I hate this place. But you should have seen Sammy this morning, bouncing off the walls like it’s Christmas or something.” 

So that was the game. Don’t acknowledge the obvious. Cas kept as much anger and concern out of his voice as he could. “He is certainly going to go far.” He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Dean’s swollen, cut ones. “Come on, let’s go. One more year in here won’t kill you.” He pulled back and stared right into Dean’s gorgeous green eyes. He wasn’t going to pursue the subject of the bruising. But he saw fear enter Dean’s eyes.

“Cas…”

“Yes, Dean?” Dean’s voice had shaken as he spoke. Was he going to bring it up?

“Please. Don’t say anything. I got in a fight, okay?”

Cas couldn’t keep the icy anger out of his voice when he answered, no matter how hard he tried. “If this happens again, I _will_ do something about it. Do you understand?”

Dean nodded and said in an undertone, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta'd, so any mistakes are mine alone!

Dean could not concentrate in history class for anything. His face hurt (though he would never admit it to anyone), and he could feel Cas's ice-blue eyes boring into his back. Frankly, it was rather distracting. He just needed to clear his head for a minute, so he stuck his hand in the air. 

"Yes, Dean," said Mr. Colt.

"Bathroom?" When Mr. Colt nodded, Dean got up and practically fled the room, grabbing and nearly dropping the hall pass as he went. It was only a slight relief when he got away from the intense stare, but it was something. He walked unsteadily down the hall to the bathroom, where he stood for a few moments in front of a sink.

The door opened, and Dean glanced up. He found himself staring directly into Cas's eyes. They no longer held the intensity he was able to feel in class; instead they were sorrowful. Dean smiled weakly. "Hey, Cas."

Cas crossed the distance between them rapidly and placed his hand on Dean's cheek. "God, I wish I could just make this better." He pressed his lips gently to the largest bruise.

Dean flinched away. "There isn't anything wrong," he said, but even he was unconvinced.

Cas raised one eyebrow. "Do not lie to me, Dean. Please. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Dean shook his head. There wasn't anything. He would never fight back against John. Never. He thoroughly deserved everything. It was his fault his mother died. This was nothing compared to that. But he didn't say any of this out loud, knowing Cas would try to convince him otherwise. "No. I can deal with it." He walked past Cas to the door, then paused when Cas spoke.

"Dean." 

Dean turned. Cas hadn't moved, hadn't even turned to face him. "What?"

"I have already said this, but I feel that I must say it again." Cas turned around. "If this happens again...I won't ignore it. I love you, and I do not want to see you hurt like this." His eyes were full of tears. 

Dean left without responding and went back to class. It was a few minutes more before Cas walked back in, not looking at Dean. Soon Dean could feel his phone vibrating in his backpack. He waited until Colt turned around to retrieve it and look at the message from Cas.

>>Want me to come home with you tonight?

if you want...we can pretend we have a homework assignment already<<

>>All right then, it is settled. 

Dean didn't respond to that one, but he felt his lips turn up in a small smile. It was indeed settled.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................

Sam waited for Dean after school. He could easily just walk home alone, but he didn't want Dean to have to come into the house without him again. His presence usually stopped John from doing anything. He scanned the crowd for any sign of his brother, finding him relatively quickly. He was walking with Cas, their hands very nearly touching. He wished Dean would just hold Cas's hand, but Dean never did when leaving school...just in case John was waiting for him outside. The two had been together for a year, but Dean refused to come out to their father, no matter how often Sam tried to convince him to. 

When Dean and Cas approached Sam, he said, "No worries, guys. Dad's not around." 

Dean smiled and intertwined his fingers with Cas's. "Good. I've wanted to do this since class got out."

Cas scoffed. "You should do it anyway. I would greatly enjoy seeing John try to do anything about it." His eyes sparkled dangerously. 

Dean glanced sidelong at him. "Cas, please." 

Cas dropped his hand and stepped in front of him. "No, Dean." He looked at Sam, then back at Dean. "Let's go." He started walking. 

Obviously, something had happened between them today. Probably something to do with John, if Sam had to guess. But he wholeheartedly agreed with Cas. If John were to try to do anything about Cas and Dean being together, Sam would stand with Cas, whatever Dean did. John didn't get to hurt Dean anymore. Ever again.

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Why did Dean have to be so stubborn about something that was this bad for him? Castiel thought about this the entire way to Dean's house. He was angry that Dean would not see how evil John was. All Dean could see was the man he had been before Mary died. Which he blamed himself for. Still. After over a decade. He did not speak to either of the brothers until they reached the door, when he turned around and kissed Dean full on the lips. "Come on. Let's go do homework."

Dean looked uncomfortable with entering the house, but Sam swung open the door and walked in. "Dad isn't home, guys."

Cas smiled and took Dean's hand in his own again, but Dean pulled away. "Cas..." he said, but he did not finish whatever thought he had just had before he ran up the stairs. 

"What in hell?" Sam muttered, and Castiel agreed with the sentiment.

He followed Dean up the stairs and knocked on his closed bedroom door. "Dean. What is the matter?"

"Go away, Cas."

"No. No I will not. What is the matter?"

The door swung open, and Dean stood before him, face tear-streaked. "Cas. I said leave."

"Dean, I want to help you." 

"I don't want your help. I don't need your help. I don't...need you."

And with that, Castiel's heart snapped in half. "Dean, please."

"Just go. I don't want you here. Leave me alone." Dean's voice, though hard, broke on the last word. 

"Dean, I love you. Please."

Dean's eyes cleared of all emotion and he frowned. "No, Cas. We're through. I don't love you. Now leave."

Castiel turned and fled down the stairs, tears streaming down his face. He ran past a very confused-looking Sam and slammed the door as he left. What had he done wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are ALWAYS appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the kudos! I love you all!

Dean stood, disbelieving, as Cas ran down the stairs. He instantly regretted what he had done, no matter the validity of the justification he assigned to it. He told himself he would never deserve Cas. And if John had been there when Cas kissed him...

“Dean, what the hell did you just do?” Sam shouted from downstairs. Dean heard his footsteps climbing the stairs. “Answer me!” Sam’s angry face confronted him.

Dean let out a mirthless chuckle. “I saved him. He didn’t need someone like me.”

“You know, I’m inclined to agree with you.” Sam’s voice was cold and his eyes hard. “But here are the facts: you need him, and he needs you. You know that, Dean, and that’s why you sent him away. He cared too much about you.”

Dean sighed. Of course Sam was absolutely right. He couldn’t understand how Cas would choose him, much less put up with John to do so. “Sammy—”

“No. Don’t explain yourself to me. Call Cas. Tell him this was a mistake.” Sam’s voice would brook no argument.

Dean sighed again. “Fine.” Sam nodded and walked back down the stairs while Dean rummaged through his bag for his cell phone. 

He unlocked it and called up Cas’s contact information, staring at it for a while before he could actually get up the courage to press the call button.

To his great surprise, Cas picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas, I’m so sorry.” And he was. What he had done wasn’t right to do to Cas.

“Sam told you to call.” It wasn’t a question, which made Dean feel really bad. Cas knew Dean wouldn’t call to apologize without being told to.

He frowned. “Yeah, he did, but—”

Cas cut him off, just as Sammy did. “You have such a low opinion of yourself. I love you, Dean, why can’t you just accept that?” Dean tried to protest, but Cas steamrolled over his half-formed words. “Good things do happen, Dean.”

Dean laughed at that. “Not in my experience.”

“What’s the matter?” Oh, there were a plethora of ways to respond to that, and Cas seemed to realize that. After a long silence, he almost murmured, “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” Dean’s eyes widened as Cas continued. “But you do! I want you to be happy.”

“No. I don’t get to be happy.” John had told him that, shown him on more than one occasion that he was nothing, that he deserved nothing.

“Why? Because of what happened to your mother?” Dean’s breathing quickened. “That wasn’t your fault, and you know it.”

But it was. “If she hadn’t come back to get me...”

“Yes, she wouldn’t have burned. But you would have. It was unfortunate, but she chose to save her son. And she didn’t die regretting it. So you don’t get to regret it either.”

Dean decided he really didn’t want to keep this conversation on his mother. “Cas, you know I didn’t mean what I said, right?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I forgive you,” was the cautious reply. 

Dean breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Do you want to come back?”

“Not tonight, Dean. I will see you tomorrow at school.” Cas’s voice was sad, and Dean wanted to fix it.

At the same time, though, he wasn’t in the mood to argue with his boyfriend (ex?), so he just said, “Yeah, I guess. Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

..................................................................................................................................................................

Sam sat below in the living room, hoping John came home sober. He had to talk to him about replacing his phone. He needed a way to communicate with Dean. Plus, Jessica Moore had asked him for his phone number. He had given her the house phone, telling her his cell was broken (not a lie) and that he would get it fixed as soon as he could.

If only Dean and Cas could get it together and make up, he would be happy. But the thought of Jess (as he called her) wasn’t enough to dispel the omnipresent thought of John. And now that Dean and Cas were fighting and possibly broken up, there wasn’t a positive presence that stayed in the home. 

Speaking of, Dean came down the stairs, a frown on his face. “I called him.”

“And?” Sam looked up at his brother, a hopeful smile on his face. 

Dean shrugged. “He’s not coming back tonight, but he told me he forgave me for what a jerk I was.”

Sam’s smile faded. “So you aren’t back together?”

Dean reached over and ruffled Sam’s hair. “No, I suppose not. At least not right now. And I don’t blame the guy. It was a dick move I pulled.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was. Jerk.”

“Bitch. How was school?”

Sam grinned. “Well, Jessica Moore wanted my phone number, so that’s something.” He happily went on about Jessica, and Dean sank back into the couch, listening intently. A smile rested on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that may have happened too quickly, but I had to heal the relationship a bit before I threw more John into it. If it's okay with everyone, I might up the rating and adjust the content accordingly, but if you guys would rather I didn't, that's fine too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was longer than I expected. Warning for homophobic language. Thank you guys for reading and the comments and the kudos :) You guys keep me going.

Castiel walked all the way home. Well, it was pretty close to Dean’s house, but it felt so much longer. Castiel did not know if he would ever be able to go back; for all he knew, this was the last time he would walk away from the Winchesters’ home. He was already home when he got the phone call, staring out the window watching to see when John would get back. 

The call shook him up pretty badly. He thought it would be better if he could talk to Dean, but instead, it just tore at his heart. After he hung up, he saw John’s car pull into their driveway. He weighed the possibilities for a moment before he sprang up and left his house, walking back to Dean’s. He wanted to make sure they both were safe. 

John didn’t see him as he got out of the car, or if he did he ignored him. He looked sober, and he had been driving (but that meant absolutely nothing, Castiel reminded himself). Once he made his way inside, Castiel snuck over to the window, watching as best he could through the curtains and hoping no one saw him doing so. 

Dean tensed visibly when John walked in, not relaxing as time went on. It looked like Sam was asking John something, but of course Castiel could not hear what. John left the room, and only then did Dean relax. Sam’s eyes were narrow and his lips were set in a tight line. It was obvious to Castiel what this meant, and it seemed to be so for Dean as well, because he sat up and started talking to Sam, a wary expression on his face.

Sam shook his head and stood. Dean rose as well and blocked Sam’s path out of the living room. Castiel could not see Sam’s face, but Dean was obviously trying to talk him out of something. Then John walked back in, a glass of something (probably whiskey) in his hand. Briefly. He swallowed its contents and threw the cup. Sam dodged, and Castiel ran into the house.

Dean was pulling a struggling Sam out of the room. “Not anymore! Not anymore!” Sam was shouting. 

“Sammy, come on. You need to get out of here,” Dean said as calmly as he was capable. Castiel could hear the quaver in his voice. “Let’s go.”

Castiel was, for the moment, unnoticed by anyone. Sam was staring at John, who wasn’t facing the door. Castiel moved absolutely silently to get behind him. Even the threat of someone hurting either Sam or Dean was too much. He kicked the back of John’s knee, and the man stumbled slightly and spun, throwing a fist at Castiel, who caught it and twisted. A couple seconds later, John was on the ground, Castiel’s knee on his chest. 

“Get off me.” John’s voice was low and dangerous. “Get the hell off of me.”

“Not a chance in hell. Dean is showing bruises from yesterday. Now, I could report this.” Castiel spoke just as low as John did. 

Dean spoke up there. “Cas, don’t.”

“But as you can see, Dean does not particularly want me to do that. He has wanted me to hide this for some time. But I am _finished_ pretending this is not happening, do you understand that?” Castiel glared down at John Winchester.

John scowled. “Don’t be an idiot, boy. You have no place in this.”

Castiel glanced up at Dean, who stepped forward. “He has every place in this, sir.” Castiel was impressed by the respectful tone Dean could keep in his voice, even after his father had tried to hurt both of them and had been stopped. “If he’ll have me back.”

“What does that mean, Dean?” John made another effort to stand up, and Castiel adjusted himself, keeping pressure with his knee and holding his hands down away from Castiel’s throat. Was Dean really going to do this? He looked up and saw one tear on Dean’s face as he stared down at Castiel. “Dean. What does that mean?”

Dean took a deep breath. “Meet my boyfriend, Dad.”

John launched up, and Castiel jumped off him before he could be thrown. He looked, disbelieving, at Dean, and he was not alone. John was incredulous, and Sam ran up behind Dean and Castiel and stood there, eyes wide. 

“I didn’t raise my son this way. I didn’t raise my son to be a faggot.” John’s voice was surprisingly steady. Castiel had been expecting yelling and probably an attack. But John hadn’t moved. He stood in front of the three of them, hands clenched at his sides. “Get out of my house. You have one hour to pack up and get out. You are not my son.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cas went upstairs with Dean, who was obviously unsteady on his feet. Sam stood below still, staring at John. “You’re kicking him out?”

John nodded. “Yes. He has no place in this house.” He seemed to have been shocked sober. “My sons aren’t faggots. So he isn’t my son.”

“Mom would have supported him, you know.” Before John had time to react, Sam sprinted up the stairs to Dean’s room, slamming and locking the door behind him. 

Dean and Cas turned around at the sudden noise. They had been shoving clothes into a suitcase, it looked like. John beat at the door behind Sam. “DON’T YOU DARE—EVER TALK ABOUT HER!”

“Oh Sammy, you didn’t.” Dean sounded almost disappointed, but Sam knew the tone was fear. Dean was leaving him alone in this house, and Sam knew he wasn’t happy about it. He would never be okay with leaving Sam with John. It didn’t help that Sam had brought up Mom right before Dean was going to leave.

“Hell yes I did. Because it’s true.” Sam laughed, but he wasn’t sure why he did. “Mom wouldn’t have let him kick you out. She would have stood up for you and you know it.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, but she’s dead.” Sam was surprised he didn’t say he killed her (he usually did when Mom came up), but it was a pleasant surprise. 

“Where are you going to go, Dean?” Silence fell outside the door. Sam assumed it was because John had abandoned his efforts. 

“My family will be okay with Dean staying with us for a while, I hope. Then we’ll see,” Cas said. 

Dean nodded. “I’m calling Bobby and Ellen for you, Sammy. You aren’t staying here if I’m gone.” 

“You don’t need to do that, Dean. I’ll be fine.” Sam knew he’d be safer with Bobby and Ellen, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave here. 

Dean shook his head. “I have an extra suitcase.” Sam tilted his head in question. “You are going to take this and pack some clothes.”

Sam couldn’t help but notice the suitcase Dean was giving him was larger than the one he himself was using, but by now he knew better than to comment on that. “Dean, I’m serious. This isn’t necessary.”

Cas took Dean’s side, of course. “It is, actually. And he’ll go with you.”

Dean turned to Cas in surprise. “What?”

“I realized that you and Sam have no need to be separated. In fact, it could be harmful to both of you to leave John and each other. You both rely on family. Besides, Sam will need a ride to school. Bobby and Ellen live further out.” It was logical, Sam gave it that. 

Dean seemed to realize this as well, as he nodded in agreement. “You have a point. All right. I’ll call Bobby and Ellen.”

Sam took the suitcase and left the room. John wasn’t in sight, but he moved carefully anyway, hoping John didn’t hear him. He packed up his clothes and brought his backpack with him into Dean’s room.

Dean was just hanging up the phone. “Thank you so much, Ellen. Yes, I know. Yeah. Okay. We’ll be over as soon as we can. See you.”

“I’ll see if my brother will let me borrow the car.” Cas started toward the door.

“Cas, climb out the window,” Dean said. “You don’t want Dad to see you. Sam’s going to do the same thing. One of the reason’s he’s using my suitcase.”

“All right. Give me your backpack. You cannot be seen carrying two out there if you are trying to conceal the fact that Sam is leaving too.” Cas caught the bag Dean threw and opened the window. “See you soon.” 

Dean nodded. After Cas left, he pulled Sam into a tight hug. “I’m going out the front. Meet you at Cas’s.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah. Meet you at Cas’s.” And with that, he climbed out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want a posting schedule, let me know. I can stick to one of those (hopefully) better than I can a vague notion of posting regularly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for abuse scene. Thank you guys for reading this and I am so sorry it is a little late. College got in my way.

There was nothing Dean wanted more than to climb out the window after Sam. He had dreamed about it often enough, although of course he would never have considered leaving his father seriously. You don't bail on family. Dean chuckled bitterly. How this loyalty was being rewarded. He placed his backpack on his shoulders and hoisted his duffel and Sam's suitcase, then took one last look around what had been his room.

His eyes traveled to his neatly made bed, which was slightly wrinkled from where he and Cas had sat on it, then to the drawings adorning his walls. He crossed the room swiftly and pulled one down. It was two stick figures, both with comically large smiles on their faces. The figures were labeled, the words floating above their heads. **Sam** was grinning on the left, and **Dean** smiled out on the right. John wasn't there, the house wasn't there. It was empty space with just Sam and Dean. Dean's hand clasped the amulet around his neck and he smiled. He folded the old drawing up and tucked it into his jeans pocket next to his iPod. 

He wished he didn't have to leave all of John's old cassettes behind, but he had no other choice. There was no way of carrying them with him. He sighed and resigned himself to the thought of marching downstairs, past John, and out the front door. He glanced up at the wall clock. He was almost out of time, and he didn't put it past his father to come up to his room to force him out the door. And if he did that, he might notice that Sam was gone. And there would go the escape plan, out the window with all their dreams. 

He crossed the room swiftly after that thought and went downstairs. His father was nowhere in sight, and for a moment Dean thought he might be in the clear. But of course, Dean Winchester had no such luck. As he stepped into the living room, he noticed that unmistakable top of his father's head rising and turning to glare at him.

"So you are leaving. Good." John got up and moved to stand in Dean's way. "You have no place here. Even if you realize that this shit you're doing is wrong, don't ever come back. Remember you aren't my son. You lost that right when you decided to be a faggot." John's voice was so calm, like what he was doing was absolutely nothing. Dean realized that for once he was sober, and that realization made what was happening so much worse.

Dean tried to step past him, and John moved aside, not saying another word. That was what Dean would remember the most. The quiet. Drunk, John was loud and full of rage. Sober, John wasn't violent. He was quiet and apathetic. Needless to say, he was typically drunk. As Dean moved past him, John shoved him in the small of his back. Dean fell, already burdened by the luggage he was carrying.

Did Dean mention that sober John was a calculating asshole? The kicks to Dean's ribs weren't hard enough to break them, just to bruise them. The kick to his nose broke it, but didn't smash it completely. The kick to his temple didn't knock him out. And when John finally hauled him up, Dean stared into perfectly emotionless eyes before he was hurled bodily out the door. Only after all this had happened did he realize he didn't even say a word to John. 

He lifted the luggage again and began to stumble down the street. As he went around the corner, he saw Sam and Cas standing next to Cas's brother's car. Both of them started running to him immediately, and he suddenly became conscious of the aching behind his eyes where he wasn't letting tears start to slip down his face. When Sam and Cas reached him, they took all the bags off him and studied him. Cas walked all the way around him before proclaiming, "He is dead. There is no longer any question whether you can prevent me from killing that man."

"Cas, please." When Dean opened his mouth, blood from his nose ran into it and he coughed a little, sending shooting agony through his already torturous ribs. "Just leave it alone. Sammy and I are getting out. Dad can just stay there without his sons."

"No. This has gone on long enough. But I am going to drive you to Bobby's house now. Get in the car. I will put your things in the trunk."

Dean obeyed, worried that Cas might actually try to do something about John and either get hurt or arrested. It was about a 50-50 shot which one happened. And Dean wasn't a fan of either option.

Cas got into the driver's seat and started the car. "Don't try to talk me out of it, Dean," her said, as though he knew exactly what was about to come out of Dean's mouth. "He hurt you, and I will not just stand by."

Dean shrugged, then winced in pain from his ribs. Whatever. He'd try to convince Cas of how bad an idea this actually was later. But for now, he focused on anything but his current situation. He focused on the fact that Cas had forgiven him, and he focused on the fact that Cas still wanted him after John's reaction...and Dean's own lack of ability to stand up for who he was. He focused on Cas's angry blue eyes glaring at the road ahead as though it itself were John and he could kill it right now. He shook his head and relaxed into his seat. Maybe with Bobby and Ellen things would start to look up. Maybe.

.......................................................................................................

In the back of Cas's car, practically forgotten, Sam worried. Technically Bobby and Ellen could be accused of kidnapping for taking Sam in. With Dean it was different, as John had straight-up kicked him out, but Sam was younger and had not been kicked out for falling in love with a boy. God, what was John's problem that he thought what he had done to his son was okay? That he thought that anything he had done was okay? 

Sam had no idea what John could have been thinking. He just knew that right now, everyone was safe. Dean and him were away from John and had made up. He would tell Jessica his number had changed in the morning at school so she wouldn't call the Winchester house. 

What he didn't know was that right now, Jessica Moore was trying to call him. He didn't know John had locked himself in his bedroom and was crying, holding a picture of hia wife and children before the fire. He didn't know that John desperately wanted Dean to come back but couldn't admit it to himself. He didn't know he and his brother were the most important people in John's life. And he certainly didn't know that John would pick up Jessica's phone call and come up to get him.. He didn't know John would panic when he found Sam's room empty. He couldn't know what would happen after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting!

Castiel almost cried with relief when they reached Bobby and Ellen's house, but he knew they were not out of reach yet. John knew Bobby and Ellen would be the first people his sons would go to for help, and would react accordingly. Castiel shoved that worry to the back of his mind and got out of the car. He went around to the trunk and opened it. 

"Let me help with that," Sam said behind him. Castiel nodded, recognizing that Dean would never allow just one of them to carry everything inside. It was a gamble for even both of them to carry the bags without Dean trying to help, and right now he was in no condition to walk, really, let alone carry anything. 

True to form, Dean followed right after Sam, staggering around to the back of the car. Before Dean could open his mouth, Castiel answered his question with a "No, Dean. You need to get inside and let Ellen fix you up."

The corners of Dean's mouth turned down in a disgruntled frown. "Fine." He turned and went to the door. When he knocked, Bobby answered the door. Castiel couldn't hear what was being said, but the look on Bobby's face was indicative of the kind of anger Castiel himself was feeling. Once he got his boyfriend and his boyfriend's brother settled in with the Singer-Harvelles, he was going back to the Winchester household and doing something about that asshole of a "father" they had just left. 

He and Sam, laden down with bags, made their way to the door, where Bobby waited for them. "He should probably go to the hospital, you know," said Bobby, by way of greeting. 

Castiel nodded. "I'm aware of that fact, but let me know how convincing Dean of the necessity goes for you."

The shrug Bobby gave him was one of acknowledgement. "True. That idjit wouldn't do a damn thing about his injuries if we didn't help him out."

Castiel sharply nodded again, but Sam was the one who answered. "We need to do something about Dad. Now."

"Agreed," Bobby said, frowning. "John has done enough to you boys. Ellen is about ready to kill him, truth be told."

So was Castiel, but he did not let on as to his intentions. That would make both Sam and Bobby accomplices, technically, and Castiel would never intentionally do that to either of them, let alone both. So instead of telling them he planned on killing John that very day, he simply answered, "Perhaps John has learned from losing both his sons in one night." He lifted one of his shoulders in a small shrug. "I should go. My brother will be wanting the car back."

With that, Castiel turned and left, not wanting to talk to them anymore, just in case he was arrested for assault or murder. Wouldn't want Bobby or Sam to get in trouble for what Castiel was doing by himself.

...........................................................................................

Ellen was tender as she set Dean's nose and bandaged him up, but she certainly wasn't quiet about her complete hatred for his father. "That bastard. He shows up here, I'll shoot him. Shoot him."

"Thanks for letting us stay here." And Dean meant that, especially on Sam's part. Bobby and Ellen had always been like second parents to them, but he would never have expected them to take them in like this. 

Ellen, on the other hand, just stared at him for a minute. "You boys should have come earlier and gotten away from John. You are always welcome here."

"Well still, thank you." Dean winced as Ellen pressesd ice to his rib.

"Hold this here," Ellen said. She left the room, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts. 

Of course, said thoughts immediately turned to all the possible ways Cas could try to attack John. His skill in that direction was one of the main reasons the two had become friends in the first place. Dean had learned that day not to mess with the new kid, that's for sure. Dean chuckled, but his laughter quickly faded. Would Cas really do this? 

Bobby walked into the room while Dean was worrying. "Cas left, thought you should know. Bringin' the car back to his dad." 

Dean swallowed his panic. Cas was gone and for sure off to "take care of John". Bobby sent a questioning look his way, and Dean said, " Oh, all right. I was kinda hoping I could talk to him, but I guess I'll just call him later. " Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest, harder and harder as Bobby nodded.

"All right, son. Ellen wanted me to tell ya to lay down and stay down. She doesn't want you moving around for a while. You've got a couple bruised ribs and she just wants you to take it easy." Dean nodded and Bobby left the room.

Without a moment's hesitation, Dean hopped up and rummaged through his bag for his phone. It took him only a brief minute before he was on the bed, phone to his ear. It rang nine times and went to voicemail. Dean hung up, not bothering to leave a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Unless I receive objections, I AM upping the rating to mature because my plan became a little darker.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I should trigger warn for suicide?? I'm not sure what to do with that, so suggestions are welcome once you read the chapter. You'll see what I mean.

“Singer-Harvelle residence, Ellen speaking.” 

John cursed silently. He had been hoping Bobby would pick up the phone. “Yeah. It’s John. Just looking for my boy.” Sam belonged here. Sam had betrayed him. 

“You kicked your boy out, you bastard, after you half-killed him. He’s asleep.” Ellen’s tone was ice. 

John didn’t care. “Not Dean. He isn’t my son. Sam. Where is he?” John felt panic welling up in him again. He couldn’t lose his son. 

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I never thought I would see the day. Huh. John Winchester abandoning his family. Go to hell.” _Click_. 

Damn it, Ellen. He tried to call Sam’s cell phone, but it took a couple tries before he remembered the phone was broken. Perhaps he could call Dean—No. There was no way in hell he was going to even try to contact that faggot. Not anymore. 

He picked up the phone again and called Bobby’s cell phone, but he was sent to voicemail almost immediately. 

John needed a drink. Sam’s words still echoed in his mind. _Mom would have supported him, you know_. And Sam was right, of course. So, naturally, John went to the basement where he kept his liquor store and drank until he forgot about it. 

He drank until he forgot the pain of losing his son. 

And when he woke up, he was tied up in the chair he had been sitting in. 

............................................................................................................................................................. 

Dean and Sam did not go to school the next day. Castiel was not surprised. What he was surprised at was the fact that he had not killed John when he had the chance. Instead, he had just tied him up. Castiel needed a plan. He did not wish to be arrested. But John did not deserve to walk the streets after what he had done to Dean. 

About midway through the day, the sheriff showed up at the school, and Castiel was called to the office. 

She was standing by the door when Castiel walked in. As he took the seat in front of the desk (which had no one sitting behind it), she shut the door and asked, “Castiel Novak?” 

Castiel nodded. “Yes.” Had John escaped and been able to identify him? He had been unconscious when Castiel had arrived, but maybe he had left something behind. 

“My name is Jody Mills.” Sheriff Mills walked around and sat behind the desk. “I got a call from Bobby Singer-Harvelle this morning about your friend Dean.” 

“Boyfriend,” corrected Castiel automatically. Sheriff Mills spoke kindly, and Castiel guessed this was about what John had done to Dean. “What about him?” 

Sheriff Mills smiled a little at his correction. “Oh, I see. I apologize.” However, a frown settled on her features as she continued. “Are you aware of what has been happening at the Winchester household?” 

Castiel laughed bitterly. “Only too aware. I would have turned John in for what he was doing to Dean, but Dean practically begged me not to. The man’s getting close to eighteen; I figured he could make his own decisions.” 

“What about Sam?” The sheriff sounded upset. Granted, anyone would be upset about something like this, but Sheriff Mills almost seemed upset with him that he did not report John. “Weren’t you concerned about his welfare?” 

“John never did more than yell at Sam. Sam was his favorite.” It was not entirely true, since the previous night, John had indeed thrown a glass at Sam, but it had not hit him. 

Sheriff Mills stood up. “All right, Castiel, I think that’s all I need from you. You really should have reported this sooner, but at least the boys are out of there.” 

Castiel breathed out a little shakily, but Sheriff Mills did not seem to notice. “Yes, I concur.” 

The sheriff left the room, and Castiel sat in the chair for a moment to figure out what he was going to do next. Hopefully they would not find John before he could take care of him. 

After school, Castiel went home and dropped off his books, then went to the Winchester house. There was no crime tape anywhere, so he assumed Sheriff Mills had not actually come out to the house yet. This left him little to no time, so he put on his cotton gloves and climbed in through the window he had left unlocked in the back. No one was watching him. 

He had read that he still needed to be careful with gloves on, so he acted as though he was not wearing them as he went downstairs to where John was still bound and gagged. Time to get to work. 

John’s angry glare met his eyes, and Castiel glared back until John’s eyes left his. “You are going to kill yourself today.” 

A couple unintelligible noises emanated from John’s throat. Castiel shrugged them off and started tying a noose. “You see, you are just so upset about Sam leaving that you do not know what to do. You have tried calling Bobby and Ellen, I assume, and they must have said something to you to the effect of ‘you bastard, go to hell.’ I assure you, this is the best way out.” 

John’s eyes glittered and Castiel heard more noises. He smiled to himself and tied the other end of the rope to a hook on the ceiling. He unbound John, keeping his arm twisted tight behind him, and forced his head through the loop. John struggled, but Castiel was stronger right now. He dragged the chair over with his foot and lifted John on top of it. Then he drew the rope taut and released John, who did not move. The rope around his neck was too tight. He kicked the chair out from under John, and not until he saw the light leave John’s bugged-out eyes did he climb back out the window and remove his white gloves. 

He was confident that John was not the type of personality to leave a suicide note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! I know this was a bit later than I wanted to have it posted.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting! I love seeing new comments when I open up my email.

_Singer-Harvelle residence, Bobby speaking._

_Bobby, it’s Sheriff Mills._

_Sheriff Mills, is it? Jody, what’s happening?_

_It’s about John Winchester. I assume you have Dean and Sam at your house._

_Of course I do. What about the son of a bitch?_

_He’s dead._

_What?_

_Dead. We think it’s suicide but there wasn’t a note. If you want, I’ll stop by later to tell the boys._

_I’ll tell them._

_All right. Do you think John would have left a note?_

_Not sure there’s anyone he cared enough about. Maybe he would have for Sam, but even that’s dubious._

_Thanks, Bobby._

_Yeah._

........................................................................................................................................................................

Sam wandered into the kitchen right as Bobby hung up the phone. “Who was that?”

“Sam, get your brother and both of you sit down somewhere. I need to go find Ellen.” Bobby turned and left through the outside door.

Sam stood there, speechless for a moment before running through the house looking for Dean. “Dean!”

He found Dean upstairs. “We need you downstairs. Bobby needs to talk to everyone and it doesn’t sound good.”

Dean jumped up from the bed and followed Sam downstairs. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. He got a phone call and said I needed to find you and that he needed to find Ellen and we all need to just sit down.” Sam’s voice rose with every word. He was in a full-blown panic, because this couldn’t be good. What could possibly be good about this situation?

Dean gripped his shoulder and turned him around. “Sammy, calm down. Panicking isn’t going to solve anything. I need you to take a breath, all right?”

Sam did as his brother said, then continued walking. Ellen and Bobby were waiting for them downstairs. “What’s going on?” Sam asked immediately. 

Dean guided him to a seat, then looked expectantly at Bobby. “I’m restating Sam’s question. What happened?”

“John’s dead.” Bobby sat down next to Ellen opposite Sam and Dean. 

“How?” was Dean’s response, voice unwavering. 

“They aren’t sure yet. It seems like a suicide.” Suicide? What? His dad wouldn’t kill himself. No. What?

“Seems?” Dean was still calm. Sam stared at him. How was he this calm? 

“There wasn’t a note. But everything else looks to be consistent with a suicide. Hanged from an old ceiling hook, chair kicked away.”

“He hanged himself?” Dean asked, and now his voice was incredulous. “He wouldn’t do that. He’d shoot himself.” 

Now Sam couldn’t keep his mouth closed. “How can you be so calm about this? How? Dad’s dead and you’re debating the probability of how he died? Can’t you just accept it and react like a normal person, please?”

Dean looked at him, and his eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Sammy. But I’m fine.” 

Sam knew better just by looking at the way his eyes sparkled, but he didn’t contradict his brother. “Can we just stop debating? Dad killed himself. How are we supposed to deal with that?”

“But Sam, I don’t think he did.” When Dean said that, Bobby, Ellen, and Sam all stared at him in disbelief. “No note, and he was hanged? That’s not Dad. Dad would have written a note for you, and he would have shot himself. I’m almost positive.”

Bobby reached over and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Who could have killed him, then? How could anyone have forced his head into a noose when he didn’t want to go?”

Ellen nodded. “Bobby’s right, Dean. If John didn’t kill himself, whoever hanged him and made it look so much like a suicide was a professional, and John wasn’t worth that. It’s more likely that he hanged himself without writing a note, possibly because he was drunk. Probably because he was drunk.”

Dean looked back and forth between Bobby and Ellen and nodded slowly. “All right.” Then he was up like a shot and ran upstairs.

Sam remained where he was, silent. He had often expressed a wish to be free of his father, but for his father to kill himself...Sam was having difficulty wrapping his head around it. Just the fact that he was dead was hard for Sam. 

“Sam, I know this isn’t something anyone wants to hear,” he heard Ellen say. “But it happened, and we need to pick up the pieces, all right? Dean is John’s next of kin, so he will inherit everything. He turns 18 and can inherit and take custody of you in a few months, if that’s what you want. Until then, we need to come up with something.”

Bobby broke in here. “Ellen, just let the boy absorb the information. Sam, why don’t you head up to your room. This is a big deal that you just need to take in before we talk about legalities and whatnot.”

Sam nodded and fled up to Dean’s room, where he found Dean on the phone. “Cas, he’s dead, didn’t you hear me? No it isn’t good. Cas, he killed himself, or so they think. No, of course I don’t. That isn’t him. All right. Yes, I love you too. Okay. Bye.”

Dean set the phone down and opened his arms. Sam fell into them and cried. He didn’t think he could ever stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, reader feedback will start to drive. If there are characters you want to see, I can accommodate those wishes now. I'm really not sure where to go from here...
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short! Next chapter should be longer, I promise!

Castiel was shaking as he hung up the phone. Dean seemed upset. And he didn't believe John had killed himself. Would Dean suspect something of him? Castiel did not think it was likely that Dean would actually think Castiel himself had done this, but the thought remained, like the seeds of panic in his head. But even if Dean suspected something, no police investigation would be able to pin this on Castiel. He had been too careful. Too conscientious about leaving no fingerprints and not being seen entering the house. 

Did the rope leave burns on John? Would an autopsy turn up something Castiel missed in his estimations? Dean was convinced John would have left a note. Should Castiel have forged one, or depended on John having alcohol in his system as he had done. Castiel sat against his bedroom wall and wrapped his arms around his legs. _Calm down. They have nothing that would incriminate you. He deserved what happened to him. He was hurting Dean._. Feeling morally justified, Castiel stood up again, panic gone, replaced by confidence. He had saved Dean. He had gotten Dean out of the hell he was living in, and everything was all right with that. 

The next day was Friday, and Castiel got up, got dressed, and went to school, no trace of worry in his mind. 

......................................................................................................................................................................................

Dad was dead. Sam had hoped for this for so long, that John would just vanish out of their lives, but now that it had come to pass, and like this, of all things, he was really upset about it. Upset as in shaking and teary-eyed and basically not functional as a human being because damn it, his entire life was turned around. No matter how much he wanted John gone, he never wanted him to kill himself. And Dean refusing to accept it was suicide made it worse. If he could just accept that John committed suicide, the both of them could figure out why it happened. As though Sam didn't already know. 

He didn't try to justify his leaving anymore. He knew in the depth of himself that his leaving is why John hanged himself. He couldn't handle losing both sons. Though Sam would never understand his father's blatant homophobia, he understood that there was no way John could accept Dean for who he was and Dean coming out like that would have broken their father. Not that Sam minded that. His father had needed a good dose of reality. But Sam leaving with Dean? That would have been the last straw, right? Sam knew he had been the favorite. Even though John wasn't exactly a good father to him either, he had been better to Sam than he had been to Dean.

Sam went to school the next day and made a brave face of it. Bobby and Ellen wanted him to stay home, and Dean wasn't saying much to him about it. It took so much for him to even get out of bed, but school was where he went to get away from home. And right now, everyone at home was too upset for him to deal with.

....................................................................................................................................................................................

Dean was sure John hadn't killed himself, but there was nothing he could do to actually convince everyone of this face. Cas thought he was just in denial, _"which is one of the five stages of grief, Dean, it is completely natural."_ But Dean had this gut feeling it hadn't been suicide, and if he had learned one thing in the past several years, it was to trust his gut, even if all the evidence was against it. If his gut said John didn't kill himself, he was going to figure out who killed him. 

Sam had cried himself to sleep in Dean's arms. If that didn't merit death, nothing did. Whoever killed John caused Sammy a hell of a lot of grief, and that pissed Dean off to no end. He was shoving his own grief down into that pit he shoved all his feelings into. Nothing he could do about it, so why bother feeling it? Why bother to sit in the dark and suffer? No, he was going to investigate this.

Dean wasn't going to go to school the next day, but Sam expressed a wish to go, so Dean volunteered to drive. Why not stay and deal with school earlier than was the original plan? Not like that could hurt anything. So he put on his leather jacket and put on that mask that says "I'm just happy I'm alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam see the school counselor, and some Jess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, guys. I've not been doing well lately, and my muse just recently struck me again and pulled me out from under my covers to write this chapter from you guys. It's probably crap, so I'm sorry. I tried to make it a little longer to make up for the wait.

Practically as soon as Dean and Sam stepped foot inside the high school, they both were called to the upstairs office. Dean was used to the school's eerie timing at that point, so he continued on, totally unfazed with Sam at his side. Neither of them said a word. They walked a little closer to one another than usual. Sam wasn't letting any emotion show in his stride or face, and Dean pulled strength from that. He knew Sam should have been taking strength from Dean, and he was ashamed at his weakness. 

Dean couldn't help but notice the pitying glances shot in their direction, but he refused to acknowledge them. His father would have been livid should Dean accept condolences the way condolences were meant to be accepted. Far better to pretend not to see, pretend he's not affected. 

As they rounded the corner and came in view of the office, Dean saw Cas standing there. He was standing a little straighter than he usually did and Dean could have sworn he had a proud look on his face. But as Cas's eyes locked onto Dean's, the pride drained from them, instantly replaced with concern. Neither of them said a word. Dean marched right past him, followed closely by Sam, into the office.

Ms. Milton, the school guidance counselor, was standing against the main desk. As the boys entered, she smiled warmly. "Ah, good. The Winchester boys. Follow me, please." Dean looked at Sam. Was the boy trembling a little? They followed Ms. Milton back into the counseling office, where she took a seat in the swivel chair behind the desk. Sam followed suit, dropping into one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Dean remained standing against the wall near the door. 

Ms. Milton looked as though she were about to comment, but she said nothing regarding that. Instead she said, "I was so sorry to hear about your father. I know it is often difficult to deal with the loss of a parent, especially when that parent took his own life."

Dean didn't allow her to get farther with her statement. "He didn't. That's not like him, not at all."

Ms. Milton looked at him carefully. "Dean, you need to accept what happened. I know it's hard, but the sooner you accept it, the sooner you can deal with the emotions that inevitably come from this."

"What emotions? I just want to find out who killed my father! What's wrong with that?"

"This will turn into an obsession, Dean, and it is not healthy. You can't go chasing off after what killed your father...it will drive you insane. You just need to look forward. Feel what you need to feel."

Dean felt his next words slip out of him, unbidden. "Gotta be strong for Sammy."

Ms. Milton nodded. "There is a difference between strong and unfeeling. Unfeeling means cold, like a marble statue. Having all these emotions, even the bad ones, that's what makes you human." 

"Human," Dean said with a chuckle. "Right." He needed to find what killed his father and this wasn't helping. 

Dean was about to leave when he heard Sam say, in a small voice, "I know this sucks, Dean, but you need to talk about it to someone."

Dean took a step forward and ruffled Sam's hair before turning around and walking right out of the office. He was slightly surprised to see Cas still standing there. Dean didn't know what to say to him. He felt bad about ranting on to him the night he found out about his father's death, especially because they had just gotten back together after Dean had been a complete and utter dick to him. 

Cas took that pressure off him by wrapping both arms around him. "Oh, Dean, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you had to deal with any of this."

Dean let one tear fall before he composed himself again. "None of this was your fault, Cas. I'm glad I have you."

...................................................................................

Castiel wished Dean had not said that. He had started to feel a bit of guilt over what he had done, but he stowed that away without a second thought to it. Guilty Castiel is not who Dean needed right now. Dean needed someone stable who could be a constant through all of this. Not his father's murderer. Castiel was in trouble.

He broke away from the hug and planted a light kiss on the tear. "Come on, Dean. We need to get to class."

"What about Sam?"

"Ms. Milton is probably still talking to him. We have computer class now, though, and you know how Bradbury gets when students come in late."

Dean nodded and let Cas lead him by the hand down the hall to the computer lab while Cas's mind raced. Why had he decided this was a good idea?

.................................................................................................

Sam didn't quite understand how this could have happened. How any of this could have happened. When Dean left, Sam and Ms. Milton sat in silence for several minutes before the one minute warning bell rang and Sam got up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left. He didn't want to be in that room for a second longer.

Instead he basically ran down the hall to his English class and nearly ran Jess over in his haste. She laughed as she regained her balance. "What's the rush, Sam?" She seemed to register the look on Sam's face, which must have been nightmarish if the return look on Jess's face was any indication. "What happened?"

Sam shook his head sadly. "I've just been with Ms. Milton. Dad died yesterday."

Jess threw her arms around him with a soft cry. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry!" She pulled away and looked into his now wet eyes. "Sit with me today." 

Sam nodded with a small smile. "All right." His eyes widened as Jess took his hand and led him to a seat. She brushed her hair out of her face and sat behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sam found himself relaxing under her touch, and he almost felt content, minus John's death. He almost felt like he could be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Comments are what keeps me going! ❤❤❤


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter you learn what happened to Mary. And there's some nightmares. Fair warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: A house fire with a casualty, death penalty, suicide, hell. 
> 
> I think that covers it.
> 
> Also, hey! I have a [Tumblr](http://imthetitanic.tumblr.com/)! I don't usually post updates but I could start.

Dean could barely pay attention to any of his classes that day. He kept thinking back to what Ms. Milton said about being unfeeling. He wasn't unfeeling. He was being the strong older brother. Sam didn't need Dean's worries on top of his own. He was having a hard enough time with losing their father. So after making it through that exceptionally long day, Cas at his side, he was exhausted. He drove the three of them back to Bobby's house, and Bobby invited Cas to stay for dinner. Cas, of course, accepted, but asked Dean to drive him home soon after that, claiming Gabriel needed something. The night went fairly calmly after that, and Dean ignored his homework and went to bed early.

_There's a smell of smoke in the air. It's probably nothing, just Dad trying to cook or something. But then it gets thicker. I think I hear Mom calling my name. The smoke starts choking me, and all I can think is what it is doing to little Sammy in his crib upstairs, so I run up there and pick my little brother upand run back downstairs, holding him close to me. I almost don't see Dad when I get close to the bottom, and I nearly run into him._

_He takes Sammy from me and grabs my hand. We're almost out the door when I remember the blanket Sammy can't fall asleep without. I see Mom waiting in the darkness. She looks terrified. It's hotter in here than usual. The house is on fire. And Sammy is missing his blanket. I let go of Dad's hand and ruin back upstairs, ignoring the smoke and flames threatening to close in around me. Sammy needs his blanket. I think I hear screaming behind me, and maybe sirens. I snatch Sammy's blanket from his crib and start running down the stairs, but I trip and fall, coughing._

_Mom is screaming... I can hear it clearer now. She sounds so close to me. I cough some more, and I feel a hot arm under my head. "Dean? Dean honey!" It's Mom. She's carrying me out, but I can hear her shaky breaths and her harsh, rasping coughs. Dad is waiting in the doorway. I don't see Sammy. Maybe he's on the lawn. I'm still clutching the blanket. Dad's arms are open, but there's fire in between Mom and him. She tosses me through the air and Dad catches me. Then she runs through after us. I look at her._

_She doesn't look like Mom. She's all grey and her eyes are red and puffy and she can't stop coughing and it looks like there's fire on her pants. I call to her that there's fire on her pants and she tears them off. She can't stop coughing. Why won't she stop coughing? The firemen are here and the ambulance people are here and she gets put on a stretcher and put in the hospital and I'm crying and Sammy's crying on the grass. So I squirm and Dad puts me down and I run over to Sammy and pick him up and hold him. I rock him till he stops crying._

_Then Dad drives us to the hospital in his car and we wait outside Mom's room until they apologize about something. What are they apologizing for? I cough and cough until I cry, and I think Dad is crying too but I don't understand. I want Mom._

Dean wakes up with tears streaming down his face. He quashes the sadness the nightmare stirred in him. He shoves the thought that it was his fault deep down. Cas doesn't think it's his fault. But the feeling persists. If it weren't one in the morning Dean would call Cas, but he didn't want to wake his boyfriend up. He didn't want to bother him. So he got up and got a drink of water, hoping the dream wouldn't come back when he went back to sleep.

..............................................................................

Castiel helped Dean get to all his classes that day. He was late for a couple of his own, but that did not bother him much. He would do anything for Dean. What was a tardy or two in comparison to Dean needing him? For the few classes that Dean and Castiel were not together, they texted each other. What they were saying was not of import, but Castiel believed it was helping Dean. Castiel was glad Dean's last class of the day was with him, because it meant they could walk out of the school together. When Sam, appeared at the door, the boys were all ready to go (but first, it seemed, Sam needed to say goodbye to his girlfriend). Dean drove them all to Bobby's house, promising he would drive Castiel home later. He ended up eating dinner at the Singer-Harvelle residence. He went home soon after that, bidding Dean good night with a kiss at the door of his house. He waited for Dean to pull away, watching at the window, before he got in the shower and went to bed.

_I am pressed up against the door of a police car. No, this is the Sheriff's car, and Jody Mills is patting me down and cuffing me. She is reciting the Miranda rights. This is less than good. I assume she has determined that I killed John Winchester. Good for her. Not so good for me. Therefore, I say yes when she asks if I understand the rights she has read to me, but I say nothing more._

_They put me in an interrogation room. I say nothing. I indicate that I would like an attorney. We talk the case over for a while. I am advised to plead guilty. I think this over and disagree. What evidence is there that cannot be explained away? I was very careful._

_At the trial, it turns out I was careless. I was seen. There were rope burns all over John from where I tied him up. Dean testifies that I had threatened to kill him. He looks triumphant, like he had known all along that I was a murderer._

_I want to cry out that I'm not a murderer, but I cannot open my mouth to defend myself. I want to tell Dean I was protecting him and that I love him, but I am unable to say even that. Instead, I must watch passively as I am found guilty. The sentence is death._

_Oddly, they decide to carry it out immediately. They do not give me a last meal. They simply lay me down on the table and give me a shot. And I fade._

Castiel wakes with a start. He glances at the clock. It is one in the morning. Were it not, he would call Dean. He does not wish to bother his boyfriend. Humans need sleep. With that in mind, Castiel got up, used the bathroom, and went back to bed. He would be able to talk to Dean, at least on the phone, in the morning.

...........................................................................

Jess seemed to have an uncanny ability to make Sam feel better. He had been almost smiling since he crashed into her that morning. She wouldn't stop cracking jokes and generally keeping Sam's mind off of what happened as well as she could. She intertwined her fingers with his, and he walked her to all her classes. Though he knew he was sad, he was happy with her. He told her the number for the Singer-Harvelle house, and she put it in her phone immediately, promising to call that night. He walked her to her car, which was beside Cas's, incidentally, and barely stopped himself from planting a kiss on her cheek. Not yet. But it seemed she didn't care for that boundary, because she pressed her lips to his cheek after the hug he had decided was better. Dean and Cas waited patiently, then the three got in the car they had borrowed from Bobby and headed home. Cas stayed for dinner, then Dean drove him home. Sam stayed up for a bit to do his little homework and then went to bed.

_The picnic basket is full where it rests next to us. Jess leans over and kisses me, and I kiss her back. In the distance, I can hear someone yelling. I tell Jess that I'll be right back and head off to investigate. I come to a tree that has a noose hanging from it. Dad stands there with his head in the noose, but he is standing on the ground, not hanging._

_"Good, Sam, you're here. Would you mind?" Dad points to the rope and I immediately understand. He wants me to do it. I shake my head no, frantically, but my feet move that direction. I start to pull on the other end of the rope, hoisting Dad up into the air by his neck. Soon he is dead._

_I head back to Jess, but she too is hanging from a nearby tree. I think I did it. As I try to cut her down and save her life, she starts to catch fire. I watch as she burns away before my eyes. Nothing is left but the rope and a pile of ashes._

_Dean is laughing from the treeline. I turn to look and he is standing there, holding hands with Cas. Is that a gun? It is. It's a gun. My eyes widen as they each hold a gun to their temple and shoot themselves, still holding hands. Their blood and brain matter mingle together, and I scream._

_I sink to the ground, then lower until I'm underground. There's fire here. I'm burning. Burning, so much burning._

Sam woke, shaking and sweating, but silent. Looking at the clock, he saw it was one in the morning. He decided he didn't need to wake Dean about this. Or Bobby or Ellen. He could handle it. He got up and walked around for a few minutes until he deemed himself calm enough to go back to sleep. But even when he got back in bed, he was sleepless. He tossed and turned, trying to find the best sleeping position, but it was no good. Dawn had broken by the time he fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I wasn't sure how to warn for this one, but I think I covered it. Hopefully. Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter...it was hard to write.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Dean angst. I am so sorry the update is late and that the chapter is short...I haven't been able to motivate myself to write a damn thing lately. I've not been having the best of times recently, so even producing this was pretty miraculous. So again, I apologize. I should have a couple more shorter chapters up fairly soon.

The alarm woke Dean up, and he started to get out of bed before he realized it was Saturday. When that realization hit him, he turned off the alarm so it wouldn't go off again and flopped back into bed. He shut his eyes and saw flames. Looked like he wasn't going back to sleep. He crawled out of bed and pulled on his jeans. As he relaxed back in the bed and took _Slaughterhouse-Five _off his nightstand, his phone began to ring. He glanced at the caller ID and smiled.__

__"Hey, Cas, what's up?"_ _

__"How did you sleep, Dean?"_ _

__Dean chuckled a little, the dream he had coming back to him and filling his nostrils with the smell of smoke. "Oh, fine. Just had a crap dream, nothing major. What about you?"_ _

__There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "I dreamed, but I cannot recall anything of import. What did you dream about that you label as crap?"_ _

__Dean let out a soft laugh. "I dreamed about when I killed Mom."_ _

__Cas made a noise of protest,but Dean cut him off. "Listen, Cas. It's true I killed her. I went back into the damn house. It was my fault."_ _

__"You were young, and you went back to retrieve Sam's comfort object. What you did seemed to you the best option at the time."_ _

__"I didn't think it through. I never think things through. And I tell myself what I do is the right thing. Hell, maybe it was the right thing, at the time. But there were consequences. Don't tell me it wasn't my fault. Because it was." Dean took a shaky breath. There were no tears in his eyes. At least none Cas would ever know about. But of course Sam took that moment to walk into the room. Dean cleared his throat and said, "I gotta go. Love you." Before Cas could reciprocate the sentiment, Dean hung up._ _

__Sam approached the bed cautiously. Dean smiled and hoped his not-tears weren't noticeable. "Hey, Sammy, what do you need?"_ _

__"It's Sam." The response seemed automatic, and Sam smiled a bit before saying, "I heard you talking to Cas. Do you really think you killed Mom?" Dean forced a laugh while Sam sat on the bed beside him. "That's a yes. Why?"_ _

__Dean shook his head. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"_ _

__Sam shot him a bitchface. "I'm here until you tell me why the hell you would think it was your fault."_ _

__Dean couldn't tell him to just go away, so he tried another card. "You going to hang out with Jess today?" He hoped bringing up the girl would get Sam off the subject of their mother's death, but it didn't work. Sam gave him another bitchface and Dean explained in short, clipped sentences that he had run back into the house. He did not tell Sam what he had been after, just that their mom had followed him in and tried to find him, and that she had died for her efforts._ _

__The tone in Dean's voice was hard, and he hoped it would dissuade Sam from asking more questions. If Sam knew what Dean had run back into the burning house for, he would blame himself...and that was the last thing Dean wanted_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are my lifeblood!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam reacts to the information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo makes an appearance. Kind of. I'd like to apologize in advance. Triggers are at the end this time.

Sam listened, openmouthed, as Dean concluded his story with, "And she died in the hospital that night. Smoke inhalation, I think."

Sam could tell he was about to place the blame on himself again. He had known for years that there had been a fire, and that Dean blamed himself for her death, but he had never known why. And Dean was obviously hiding something from him. "Why did you go back in?"

The look on Dean's face almost made Sam regret asking the question. Almost. "I don't know, Sam, I was four!"

Sam leaned closer to his brother and stared directly into his eyes. "You remember every detail of that night except why you ran into a burning building? I'm sorry if I don't quite believe you. Why did you go back in?" He wouldn't have pressed the matter if Dean hadn't so obviously lied.

Dean seemed to realize that, too, because he signed and leaned back. "A blanket. I went back inside to grab a blanket. And I am done with this conversation." He made no move to leave. He gave no indication of a wish for Sam to leave. 

He got up and left anyway. Dean never opened up to him until whatever was eating at him got to be too much, and the fire had been pushed to the back for a decade or so now. Sam couldn't see Dean telling him what blanket it had been, but he knew. He knew exactly. Dean still had the damn thing, even if he tried to hide it from everyone. It was Sam's fault that their mother died, then. Not that Dean would ever let him put the blame on himself, no. Dean was the one who ran to get it. 

God, why couldn't Dean just see that it was nobody's fault? Sam found himself thinking that Jo could help him understand, but he shut down that road quick. Jo wasn't a welcome presence in his headspace right now. Not with the revelation about Mom (and Dad's suicide). He didn't need the thought of the person he had always considered a sister, or the inevitable images of her death. The explosion in the engine. Sam pressed his hands to his temples, trying to banish the images as they arose. 

She had been 12 when she snuck out her bedroom window into the yard and found a car with the keys in it. No one knew why she had tried to drive it, not really. Sam put it down to her being Jo. She had always had that quality about her. She was badass from the start, and thought she was am adult. The car wasn't drivable. The engine was compromised, and the car exploded. Dean and Sam had been staying over at the time. She hadn't told either of them her plan, so when the sound of an explosion ripped through, they shot up and were at the window in less than a second. Or at least Dean was. With a muttered curse, he shoved Sam around and to Bobby and Ellen's room. They were awake and rapidly dressing. Dean told Sam to stay in the house, but he followed them out when they all rushed to see what had happened. Sam would never forget the smoking remains of the car...the blood on the windows. 

He shook his head to rid himself of the image and went downstairs. Ellen was down there and Sam had to swallow any thoughts of that night down into himself, lest he inadvertently upset her. Bobby had had to talk her off the ledge more than once after that, always when they thought the boys weren't listening. But Sam kept his ears open for that, so he knew just when to be careful. "Morning."

Ellen turned around and greeted him with a promise of pancakes if he went and got his brother, so he went back upstairs to get Dean for breakfast. He pretended not to notice the tears that were plain on his brother's face and gave him some time to erase the evidence. They went downstairs together and acted happy, like they weren't noticing each other's pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGERS: DEATH. PAINFUL RECOLLECTION OF DEATH. I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> Um...please don't kill me? Comments motivate me so much, guys, and I appreciate every one I get! ❤❤ Y'all are da bestest!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's house and some exploration of his background. Basically, Gabe wakes Cas up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Yep. Three chapters in three days. Spring break is fabulous! This one should be a bit happier. Possible triggers: mentions of a mental hospital.

Castiel felt horrible for deceiving Dean regarding his dream, but he knew if he had told, Dean would know and never forgive him, so he stopped thinking about it. When Dean hung up on him, the words he had meant to say lingered on his lips. _I love you too. Please don't think you aren't worth it._

Castiel could not think of what could have caused Dean to hang up so abruptly. He ran through several options, each worse than the last, until finally he realized Sam must have walked in. Castiel sighed in relief and laid back against his pillow. All he wanted was to stay in bed now until Dean called or texted. He was the only reason Castiel would consider leaving the comfort of his blankets and facing his family.

Unfortunately, as he closed his eyes, he heard his door open unceremoniously. "Cassie! Rise and shine and face the day!"

Castiel grimaced and opened his eyes. Standing before him in an undershirt and boxers (thank God) was Gabriel. "My name is Castiel, brother, though you seem to forget so often."

"Come on, you let Deano call you Cas, _Cas-ti-el_." Gabriel drew out the name as sarcastically as seemed to be possible. "Anyway, up and at 'em! It's visiting day, in case you forgot." At that, Castiel shot up.

He scrambled out of bed, then realized just how grateful he was that he always wore sweatpants to bed. "Leave so I can get dressed."

Gabriel laughed. "All right, Cassie. Breakfast is chocolate chip pancakes. I expect you downstairs soon. Michael's already gone. You know how he likes visiting our brother on his own before we go. And I'm not sure where Dad is." Gabriel shrugged. Dad being missing for weeks at a time was a normal occurrence. They were used to it by now. "Business, presumably. He didn't call to let us know.."

Castiel nodded and made a shooing gesture with his hands. Gabriel turned and left Castiel to his thoughts. He was looking forward to seeing his older brother, but that didn't stop a sinking feeling as he realized that (once again) it would be just him and Gabriel visiting Lucifer in the hospital. Why didn't their father and brother ever visit with them?

Once Cas had changed, he shot a quick text to Dean. **Forgot today was visiting day. I will text you when we get back. Leaving my phone here.** He didn't wait for a reply before rushing down the stairs to eat chocolate chip pancakes in silence with his brother. 

Gabriel was completely fixated on the chocolate he was consuming. So much so that he didn't notice the dejected expression on Castiel's face. It was not like Castiel was expecting him to notice, though. In fact, he would greatly prefer it if Gabriel did not notice.

Gabriel looked up, and Castiel wiped his face of expression. "So. How are the boys? I heard about their father. From what you told me, I'm glad the bastard is dead. I almost wish I could have done it myself." Cas looked up at him, horror-struck. Gabriel's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Not really, obviously, Cassie. I'm just glad he won't be hurting his sons anymore. At the same time...losing a parent seriously sucks. I hope they aren't suffering too much."

Castiel looked down at his plate. "They are well, I believe. Obviously, they are both suffering from grief, but they are strong." He left out that Dean did not believe it was suicide. That would arouse worry in his older brothers. He continued eating. When he finished, he rinsed the plate in the sink and looked at Gabriel, who was already done.

"Put your shoes on, Cassie. Let's go see Luci."

Castiel obliged with no more than a grumbled complaint about the nickname. Yes. Let us go see the oldest of our brothers. Castiel hoped he would recover soon so they could bring him home, but he knew how unlikely that was. All he would ever have was short, supervised visits with the boy he hasn't truly been able to speak to in what seemed like millennia. But that would never stop Castiel from hoping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun to write! Let me know what you guys thought of it!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is potentially TRIGGERING.
> 
> WARNING: Suicidal thoughts. Suicide notes. Homophobic slur. Mentions of past death.

Dean read the text message from Cas with a strange, growing sense of trepidation. He put the phone down, not bothering to respond. What would be the point? Cas wouldn't see it for a few hours anyway. Visiting his brother at the hospital...it was a biweekly ritual with Cas and his brother Gabe. Typically, though, Cas had his phone with him in case anyone needed him.

Not that Dean ever bothered him on visiting days. He wasn't that needy. But it was the thought that if he needed his boyfriend his boyfriend would be there that kept him sane on those days. But now what was happening?

Dean's father was dead. He just had the dream in which he killed his mother...right after Cas had convinced him it wasn't his fault. He just told Sam what happened that night and Sam had left him. Probably angry and betrayed. Dean screwed everything up. If he hadn't run back into the damn house...if he hadn't failed so harshly...if he never existed in the first place, his mom would be alive. His dad would never have become the bastard he was before he died. Sammy would have led a normal life, with two loving parents.

Bobby and Ellen could be that for Sam. At least, Dean hoped they would be. They needed someone to take care of...ever since Jo, they had been depressed and unsure. They always did their best to hide it from the boys. Since the Singer-Harvelle household had always been a safe haven from their family problems, their two surrogate parents didn't want them exposed to problems there, too. But Dean had picked up on the constant tension and realized how sad they were all the time. Maybe with Sam there full-time, they would feel a little better. Sam was only a couple years older than Jo had been, after all.

And what about Sam? Better off this way, Dean knew. He would be cared for. Hell, he could go to friggin' Stanford if he wanted. But he would always carry the scars of losing both parents. _And a brother_ , Dean thought, but he became conscious of the thought a few seconds after. 

He was finally beginning to accept that his dad's death had been a suicide. After all...how could Dean have expected his father to understand his sexuality so quickly? Or to react positively? That man had no idea how to deal with those who were different from him. He had made his views on homosexuality very clear in the past. Discovering that his son was a "filthy faggot" must have been traumatic. Dean had been the reason for John's suicide. Wasn't it obvious to anyone else? Didn't Dean deserve no less? He had killed his father and his mother. If he stuck around, he might kill his brother, too. 

Dean's mind often went down dangerous paths, but Cas had always been able to bring him back. Now, Cas wasn't even available to talk to. He was gone, no way to contact him. Dean considered trying to talk to Sammy, but he knew he would only damage his brother further by confiding in him. Sam deserved to be at peace with himself. Instead, he decided to write a letter. 

He pulled a notebook from his school bag and took a pen from the nightstand. He flipped to a blank page and started writing. The words flowed easily.

_Dear Sam and Cas...that sounds so much like a chick flick, but I honestly don't know how to start this. But here goes. If you're reading this...I did it. And succeeded. Sam...you told me years ago that you pray every day.Not sure if that’s still true. Probably isn’t, but if it is, give it one last try for me. And Sammy...one of us lost to this is enough. Cas...when we met, you were the only thing really holding me together. Dad was...well, Dad, and I didn't think I could handle it anymore. You held me together for a year. I want you to know that I love you and I will always love you. Guys...I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry I'm such a screw up that I can't even make it through my friggin' senior year. Tell Bobby and Ellen I'm sorry too. And thank you. All of you. I'm proud of us._

 

As he finished writing, Sam came upstairs and told him that Ellen had made pancakes. So Dean set his notebook aside and went downstairs. As he ate his pancakes, he pretended he had not just written the letter he had written. As soon as he had finished, he went upstairs and sank into his bed, notebook shoved under his pillow and plan turning in his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well...let me know what you guys thought of that chapter. If you want longer chapters, tell me. I can do that. Updates would be slower, but I could do longer chapters if you want. Just give me some feedback! And if any of you are not doing well, my ask box is always open to you guys and I can give you my email if you want to talk more privately. Always open. 
> 
>  
> 
> [My Ask Box](http://imthetitanic.tumblr.com/ask)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your comments and kudos! It means a whole heck of a lot to me! And I'm so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Life just kind of happened. 
> 
> Triggers: Suicidal ideation. Self hatred. Repeating suicidal ideation because it's the whole focus of the chapter.

Saturday when everyone was at the house was not the best day to carry out the plan Dean had worked out. But this was the only day. Cas was busy and out of communication. Dean knew just talking to his boyfriend would help him, but that wasn't exactly possible. Cas was with his brothers. Dean got out of bed and set the note on the nightstand, under _Slaughterhouse-Five_. Sam probably wouldn't see it until it was too late. Dean pulled off his AC/DC tee and sweatpants, replacing them with jeans and a green flannel. He took the Impala's keys off his nightstand and left the room. 

Bobby was washing dishes when Dean made his way downstairs. Dean tried to make it past him without being noticed, but Bobby turned around. "Where you off to?" he asked.

"Just heading into town. I think I'm going to hang with Cas for a while." Dean looked Bobby right in the eyes, hoping the older man wouldn't see the lie. 

Bobby shrugged. "All right. Tell the boy he's welcome for dinner tonight if he wants."

Dean nodded, smiling. "Will do." _Will not_. 

"All right then, son. Have fun." Bobby turned back around, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. At least it hadn't been Ellen or Sam. At least it hadn't been Ellen or Sam. He fled out the door, not caring if it slammed behind him. When he reached Baby, he stroked her hood and got in the car. He'd park it somewhere safe later. He checked the glove box...sure enough, his dad's favorite shotgun was still in it. 

He started driving, and had gotten on the road before he felt his cellphone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the caller id. Sure enough, it was Sam. _To ignore or not to ignore, that is the question_. He sighed and flipped it open. "Sammy!" he said, false enthusiasm dripping from his voice. 

"Dean. Turn around and come back. Now." Sam sounded angry, and Dean could guess why.

"No can do, Sammy. No can do. Too tired to turn around now." The enthusiasm Dean had been faking faded from his voice. Nothing left to do now but hang up.

"Dean, please! Come back. I can't lose you too." _Shit._ Why did he have to say that? Why? Dean shook his head and sighed. 

He reminded himself that it was his fault Sam had already lost both his parents. If he stayed...what if Sam lost Bobby and Ellen, too? That would be his fault. "I'm sorry, Sam. I just can't." Dean ended the call and kept driving. A few minutes later, the phone started ringing again, and he spared it a glance. Gabriel. He hadn't thought of that. 

Should he answer it? He was almost to his destination. One more call wouldn't hurt. Especially if...if it was Gabriel's phone. It could be Cas. Dean needed to say goodbye.

He accepted the call and put the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Dean. Stop your car." Cas's low voice startled Dean, even though he had been expecting it. He obeyed without thinking, pulling over to the shoulder.

"Hey Cas, what's up?" Dean poured the same cheerfulness into this as he had when he first started talking to Sam. Though Cas's greeting hadn't been exactly ignorant of the situation, he hoped he could dispel worry. 

Of course, it didn't work. "Gabriel has already traced the call. Why?"

 _Son of a bitch_. Not only did Cas know, he was coming to stop him. "Why what?" Feign ignorance. Convince him he's wrong. Like that would ever work with Cas.

"Why have you decided killing yourself is the better option?" Dean could hear a tremble in his stoic boyfriend's voice. "Why do you feel the need to do this? Please explain it to me because I do not understand. Please, Dean."

Dean breathed a single shaky breath before he responded. "I thought you were at the hospital with your brother."

"I am. Sam texted Gabriel and told him what was going on. So stop avoiding the question. Why?" There was no escaping it now...Cas was crying. 

"Don't cry, Cas. Please." Dean felt a sinking feeling as he began to hear real sobs coming over the line. "Cas, honey, it's all right."

"Stay where you are," Cas choked out. "Please, Dean, will you do that for me? We are about to leave to come get you."

"I have to do this. I just have to." Dean felt his resolve crumbling. This would hurt Cas. Wouldn't staying hurt Cas? Dean was extremely conflicted. Why had he answered his damn phone?

"No you do not. Dean Winchester, I love you, and I need you to be all right. Please can you do that for me?" Cas had won. _Love_ and _Need_ were two words that Dean could not ignore, especially when he reciprocated those feelings. 

Dean nodded, sagging in his seat. "Okay, Cas. I'll wait right here." 

"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?" Cas sounded relieved, but Dean could still hear the choked breaths he was taking. 

"I think I'll be all right, Cas. Everything is going to be okay."

Dean hung up the phone and opened the glove box. He took the shotgun out and held it close to his body. Cas had actually convinced him not to do it. Dean had no idea how, but his boyfriend had convinced him.

He opened the door of his car and got out, walking around the front and sinking into the grass of the shoulder on the other side. He kept holding the gun close to him. He wasn't going to use it, obviously, but it brought him comfort while he waited for Cas and Gabe to show up and drag him back to Bobby, Ellen, and Sam. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard a car stopping behind the Impala. He heard two car doors open and slam, and then he felt someone tugging at the gun. He opened his eyes to see Cas's panicked face. "Please, Dean, let go of the gun."

Dean released, and Cas threw it to Gabriel. Dean wondered if Cas had realized the safety was still on it. "Cas..."

Cas wrapped his strong arms around Dean and held him. "It's all right, baby. I'm here. I always will be." He kissed Dean on the cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," Dean whispered, melting into the hug. After a little while, Cas pulled him up. 

"Get in the car. I have to take you home before Sam has a panic attack." Dean made to get in the driver's seat, and Cas shook his head. "No. I am going to drive. Passenger seat."

Dean knew better to protest. He sat in the passenger seat and leaned his head against the window while Cas and Gabe conferred outside. Gabe hadn't said anything to him, just let Cas take care of him. Soon, Cas got in the car. "Gabriel is coming with us, following behind. He needs to talk to Ellen and Bobby."

Dean nodded absently. Hopefully Sam wasn't too upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your comments! Also, if you guys want me to do the mental hospital scene, I will. Just let me know! <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice family conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Always Keep Fighting shirt came in the mail a couple days ago, which inspired me to finish this chapter for you guys. Your comments and kudos are wonderfully motivating, too! Sorry I'm late with this installment!

Cas laid his hand on the small of Dean's back as he guided him through the door. Bobby and Ellen were whispering to each other, but when Cas cleared his throat, they looked up. Immediately, Dean was wrapped in a hug from Ellen, and he could feel tears dripping onto his shoulder. Ellen said nothing as she let go and allowed Bobby to hug him as well. 

"Sam, come on in here," Ellen called. 

Dean braced himself as he heard the pounding steps of running feet. Sam rushed into the room and stopped abruptly in the doorway. He stared at Dean's face, then took a few cautious steps forward. Without a word, Sam pulled Dean into his arms. Only after their hug ended did he speak.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Why, Dean?" He didn't sound angry, which surprised Dean. He just sounded tired and sad.

"Because everything is my fault, Sammy. I screw everything up. I killed Mom...and now I've killed Dad." Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Cas cringing. Sam's eyes were filled with tears. A quiet conversation was happening in the kitchen, where Gabe was. "It's true. I was the cause. Dad killed himself because of me. If I hadn't..."

Cas's hand slipped into his and gripped it tight. Sam shook his head. "This wasn't your fault. None of it was." He sighed. "Dean, please don't blame yourself for this, too. I can't lose you. Not now, not ever. Please don't ever think I wouldn't do anything for you." Sam's voice cracked, and with it, Dean's heart. 

He squeezed Cas's hand. "I just couldn't deal with all of this anymore. I mean, what's left? If I stick around, it would just hurt you more. I don't want to do that to you."

Sam shot a bitchface to the heavens, Dean saw the total exasperation in his expression and braced himself for the inevitable speech. But it didn't come. Sam just said, very quietly, "And you thought your death wouldn't be painful to me?"

At that, and to Dean's great relief and trepidation, Gabriel walked in, followed by Bobby and Ellen. His voice was grave as he said, "Well, Dean, I'm glad you are safe." He lifted both eyebrows, lips pressed together. "Unless Cassie wants to leave, I'll be on the porch while you guys discuss this as a family." He walked out the door. 

"Sit down." Bobby had a deep frown on his face. Both boys obeyed, sitting next to each other on the couch. Ellen sat down as well, followed by Bobby, who sat back in the recliner. "I'm going to tell you a story. There was a father whose little girl was the joy of his life."

Dean realized swiftly that the story was about Bobby himself, and was terrified of where this was going. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the couch cushion. 

"This little girl thought she was all grown up, so one day, she decided to teach herself to drive. That night, she snuck out of bed and went into her father's scrapyard. She climbed behind the steering wheel and turned the key in the ignition. That car's engine exploded, and she died. After that, the father and the mother were very upset. The father kept a gun in the top drawer of his desk, with a single bullet inside. That bullet was the bullet that was going in his brain."

Sam gasped and put a hand over his mouth. It seemed he understood what Bobby was talking about as well. 

"Every morning, he stared at that loaded gun, wondering if today would be the day. His wife talked him down. Sometimes he talked his wife down. But losing that girl had hurt both of them deeply. Neither could see much of a point in continuing to live without her. And then they realized that two boys needed them more than they thought they had. The father put away that gun. And he lived." Bobby took a deep breath as he finished his narrative.

Dean looked down at his feet. He didn't know that. He had no idea that Jo's death had affected them as badly as it had, though he figured he should have guessed. He felt the gentle pressure of Cas's hand and realized that it was grounding him. He needed Cas. Well, he knew he needed Cas, but maybe Cas needed him, too. "I'm sorry, Bobby." Cas pulled Dean's head against his shoulder. 

"Don't go apologizing to me, boy," Bobby said gruffly. "Just know that we both know what you're goin' through, and we can help."

Dean nodded. "All right." 

Bobby raised his voice and said, "Gabriel, why don't you come on in here?"

Gabriel opened the screen door and came inside, still frowning. "What's happening?"

"We'd like you to explain the next step to Dean, if you don't mind." This was Ellen, whose voice was shakier than Dean had ever heard it. Guilt washed over him. How dare he hurt them like this?

Gabriel nodded and sat next to Cas. The couch was becoming rather crowded. "Well, I'd recommend a course of grief counseling, myself. Professional counseling is important, especially through a time like this. If I felt it would help, I'd also say you need to go into therapy, Dean. We were lucky this time, and we can't let this slide." 

Dean nodded, but he wasn't thrilled about this. This was just something he was going to have to do. With five people around him nodding and agreeing that he needed _professional help_ , it seemed he would have to. He wasn't insane, though, and he opened his mouth to say as much.

Cas cut in, though. "I know you don't want to, Dean. You've told me that several times. But we need to do something. Please...let us help you."

Dean sighed and nodded again. "All right. I'll go."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, and Sam leaned over and hugged him. "Thank you," he said, under his breath.

Dean smiled slightly and, at the same volume, said, "Anything for you guys." He still wasn't happy about it, though. Louder, he said, "So just this grief counseling, or do I have to go into actual therapy too?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Right now, I'd say just the grief counseling. You definitely need that."

Bobby had a frown wrinkling his forehead. Ellen wore a similar expression. "He needs both," she said firmly. "I needed both. He needs both."

Gabriel held up his hands in surrender. "Yes ma'am."

Bobby looked at him, eyes narrowed. "Not that I'm not thankful, 'cause I am, but how did you find him? He was on the road." 

Gabriel chuckled and glanced at Cas, then back to Bobby. "I have to keep a couple of my tricks secret," he said. "Come on, Cassie, we should go."

Cas looked at Dean. "Do you want me gone?"

The phrasing made Dean cringe. "I never want you gone again. But if you need to go, you can."

Cas nodded and wrapped both arms around Dean. "I will be back tomorrow. I promise." He kissed his forehead and got up, following Gabriel out the door.

"I think I'm going to head up to my room," Dean said quickly, and ran up the stairs. He heard footsteps behind him and said, "I'm not going to do anything, I swear. I need sleep."

Sam placed his giant hand on Dean's shoulder. "If you need anything at all, you call me, understand?"

Dean laughed. "All right, Sammy. I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking at wrapping this fic up pretty soon! I'd like to thank all my readers for getting me this far! I always love hearing from you!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments and kudos so far! You guys rock!

Castiel was shaking hard by the time he got out the door. Dean blamed himself for his father being dead. He blamed himself and had tried to kill himself because of it. This was Castiel's fault and he knew it. If Sam hadn't found the note and called Gabriel, Dean would have died and Castiel would have been to blame.

Dean could be dead right now. Castiel felt tears burning behind his eyes and blinked them back. It was too late, though. Gabriel was looking at him with something akin to suspicion, but Castiel realized that he was really looking at him with concern. When they reached the car, Castiel looked in the side mirror and realized he had gone ashen without realizing it. They both got in the car, and put his earbuds in, hoping Gabriel wouldn't say anything about it.

 _"I am a preacher sweating in the pews..."_ Castiel allowed himself to sink back into the music, letting the lyrics wash over him. Gabriel did not say a word the entire ride home, but when they pulled into the driveway, he reached over and gently removed one of Castiel's earbuds.

"We're home, Cassie." Gabriel set a comforting hand on Castiel's knee, but Castiel removed it. "Listen. Dad's home. He called when we were at the Singer-Harvelle house." 

This was marvelous. Father was home, and most likely inquiring after his youngest son. As per usual on his infrequent trips home. "Oh?" Castiel said. "What did he want?" Not now. Please not now. His father was already convinced of his instability, and right now was not the time for him to come home. Not when Castiel was trying to come to terms with a murder and his boyfriend's near-suicide. 

Gabriel must have picked up on the chill in Castiel's tone, because he responded with, "He wanted to make sure we were all right, Cassie. He does care about us, you know." Cas snorted quietly, and Gabriel sighed. "I didn't tell him what happened, Cassie. You can tell him when you have a mind to. But I do hope that's soon." 

Castiel shook his head, but offered no verbal response. Why would he? He unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved his iPod in his pocket. Slamming the car door behind him, he walked slightly behind Gabriel to the door. 

Gabriel opened the door and the pair of them went inside. Michael greeted them in the kitchen. "Father is waiting for you in his study," he said quietly. Castiel considered asking him how his visit with Lucifer went, but decided against it. Michael told him nothing when he usually asked, anyway. 

Castiel led the way to the study, a deep frown on his face. He wasn't sure if Gabriel was following behind, but at this point he did not care. He had almost killed Dean with his stupidity. Nothing else mattered.

But sure enough, when hr knocked on the door to the study, Gabriel was standing behind him when the voice behind the door rang out. "Enter." Castiel turned the doorknob and stepped over the threshold. 

The voice did not match the scruffy person sitting at the desk in front of an old desktop computer. "Castiel! Gabriel! You're home!" Their father typed for a moment more before looking up. "I'm glad you're here. You were with the Singer-Harvelles?" Castiel nodded, not sure if Gabriel was doing the same. "Why were you over there?"

Gabriel's face twisted into a smile, but Castiel was not going to lie to their father. "Dean was having a problem."

Castiel watched multiple expressions cross over his father's face, but it finally settled on a decent amount of concern. "A problem?"

"Yes." That was as much as Castiel was willing to say, and he tried too put that into his tone. His father seemed to pick up on that, because he didn't say another word about the subject.

Instead, his father simply nodded. "I hope he is doing all right, then. You look absolutely drained. Why don't you head on up to your room and get some sleep?"

It was 4 in the afternoon, but Castiel had never felt more exhausted. He actually yawned. "Yes, Father," he said, then turned and walked out of the study and climbed the stairs to his room. Michael did not come in and bother him, and nor did Gabriel. Castiel just threw himself down on top of his covers and went to sleep, regardless of the sun streaming through his uncovered window.

.................................................................................

_I am God's gift but why would he bless me with_  
_Such wit without a conscience equipped_  
_I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think of you_  
_"There's too much green to feel blue"_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Cas was listening to was "Fame Less Than Infamy" by Fall Out Boy. It seemed appropriate.
> 
> Also, I'd love it if you guys would check out [The Learning Curve](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3630666) by none other than Amahami. It's a wonderful story! I'd also like to thank Amahami for giving me that push to get this chapter done, and helping me with a couple details :-)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam lies in bed and thinks. Castiel gets some news. Dean panics Ellen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: self loathing, mentions of suicidal tendencies
> 
> Thank you guys for your comments and kudos! They mean a lot!

Sam made his way to his bedroom. Usually he hated spending time in there because of the memories it brought back. Games with their almost-sister, mostly physical in nature. Jo had never been one for calm endeavors. This thought saddened Sam yet further. But he was soon able to shake off that old sadness in favor of this new emotion. 

Dean had attempted suicide. Not that Sam hadn't thought about it or even come close to trying, but the thought that his older brother (if he was being honest with himself, his idol) had tried to take himself out of the world made his chest hurt. He lay down face-first on the bed and inhaled deeply through the fabric. 

He hadn't been expecting Bobby's story to turn the way it did, either. He supposed he should have guessed at the beginning, but he had been focused on something else at the time, to be fair. Even though it wasn't fair. Why did everything have to happen? He supposed Fate must have our out for the family. 

First Mom and Jo died, then Bobby and Ellen almost died, then Dad. And Dean thought it was an option? How dare he? _You used to think it was an option, too, Sam, when I was louder._

Sam slammed his mental door shut on that voice and retreated into his own head, where he might be safer. It was back. Damn it all, the voice was back.

.....................................................................................................

Castiel woke up at 7 in the morning when Michael snuck into his room and shook his shoulder. "Castiel. Church. Wake up."

Castiel shot up, fully awake with no time to adjust and no coffee, both typical staples of the morning. He supposed it was because of the large amount of sleep he had gotten. He looked at his brother and nodded. "I'll get dressed. Meet you downstairs in 30?"

Michael chuckled. "I'll have breakfast ready. Get going!" The older man left the room, and Castiel clambered out of bed. 

He quickly showered and got dressed, pulling on his suit and tying his tie loosely around his neck. He grabbed his old beige trenchcoat from over the back of his desk chair and practically ran downstairs, where Michael was waiting with scrambled eggs and toast. 

Castiel and Michael did not exchange words as they shoveled breakfast into their mouths. (Well, Castiel shoveled. Michael ate with grace, though just as quickly as Castiel.) They were just rinsing the plates when their father came downstairs, fully dressed for church, followed by Gabriel, who was not dressed sloppily, but whose outfit was hardly formal. 

Gabriel, however, was the one who stepped up to fix Castiel's tie and whisper in his ear, "Luci gets out tomorrow."

Castiel held in his gasp of surprise. When they had been there yesterday, the hospital had shown no signs of releasing him. He supposed his father had pulled a few strings to get his eldest and unspoken favorite son out of the hospital. He did not pause to question his brother. He simply nodded with a smile, as though he had already known. 

Gabriel shot him a grin before their father spoke. "Your brother Lucifer is being released from the hospital tomorrow. I'd like you all to stay home to welcome him back." His tone brooked no argument, though Castiel was hit with a wave of panic. How was he going to keep a watchful eye on Dean when he was practically on lockdown?

Cas had wanted his brother back for a couple years. But all this could not have come at a worse time. However, looking at Michael's face made those counts flee his mind. How could be be upset about his brother returning now when Michael had a smile on his face the likes of which Castiel had never seen? That was selfish of Castiel, and he knew it well. So he plastered a smile onto his face and pledged along with his brothers to stay home the following day.

.....................................................................................................

Dean lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with Pink Floyd playing through his headphones. He tuned out the world in favor of the lyrics of "Lost for Words," and didn't hear Ellen pounding on his door. When the song ended and her heard her yelling and pounding he got up quickly and threw the door open, Ellen's face was stained with tears 

She crossed her arms and stared him down for a few moments before bursting out with , You cannot lock that door. Please leave it unlocked. I need to be able to get in, in case.." She trailed off, but Dean knew where that statement was leading. In case he attempted again. Not as though he even attempted the first time. Actually, he hadn't done a damn thing to hurt himself, so why was he here? Why was everybody stressed out about this? 

Sam was sad, and Dean could dwell on that for years. He had caused Sam to be sad, and he knew how wrong that was. And Bobby and Ellen with that story. He had hurt so many people without doing a thing, so what would happen if he did something?

He recalled the look on his brother's face when he was reacting to seeing Dean alive. He reminded himself that Sam had said Dean's death would hurt him. He reminded himself that his own pain was nothing. So when Ellen had her outburst, he responded with "Yes, ma'am," and went to lay back down. He looked at her face just in case she needed something else before he tuned the world out again, ut she just looked at the room and wiped a tear from her eye before turning and leaving Dean to be once again alone with his thoughts. 

But of course the music wouldn't help anymore, so Dean picked up the phone and called Cas. No response. Dean thought it was because it was a Sunday morning, but that did not typically stop him from answering the call. The only thing Dean could think of that might cause this would be Cas's father coming for a visit, and that was a terrifying thought in and of itself. If Dean prayed, he would have prayed that night for Cas's father to in fact not be in town. But it wouldn't have worked anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well. Let me know what you think!!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this and commenting and giving kudos. You guys are the absolute best! 
> 
> Thanks to [Amahami](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Amahami) for helping me out with some details in here!!

Church was generic. Castiel barely listened to the sermon, instead worrying about his soon-to-be absence from Dean. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket halfway through the fire-and-brimstone portion of the service and knew instinctively it was Dean. His hand twitched automatically toward it, but his father cleared his throat behind him. Castiel's hand flew back to his lap and stayed there while he silently panicked. 

The second they were released, it was all Castiel could do not to run outside and call Dean back right then, but he stood politely while his father introduced all of them to Becky Rosen, another writer who Castiel could easily see was trying and failing to flirt. She kept a smile on her face as she laughed and kept touching his father's arm. Castiel almost felt bad for her, watching his father's stoic face remain unchanged. 

It took too long to be over. The second they returned home, Castiel yanked his phone from his pocket and took a look. One missed call from Dean. No voicemail. Castiel swallowed back his rising panic and very calmly hit the return call button. 

_Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone._ Castiel nearly screamed when the machine immediately picked up. Dean's phone was off and Castiel could not reach him. As it was, he squeaked involuntarily and said, "Dean. I am on my way to your house. Please call me back. Please." 

He hung up and sprinted down the stairs, very nearly tripping on the second step. "Gabriel!" he yelled as he ran. His brother jumped up from the couch as Castiel entered the living room, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Castiel stopped abruptly, breathing heavily. He did not say a word, as Gabriel seemed to be warning him of something. 

That something became very obvious as the armchair next to the couch began to swivel. His father's head came into view, and Castiel tried to school his emotions back to normal. "What's the matter, Castiel?" 

Castiel swallowed his fear and panic. "Dean needs me to come over," he said calmly, arms at his sides. 

Gabriel's eyes widened in understanding, and he said, "I'll take you, Cassie." He crossed the room and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Dad, we need to go. It's important." 

"His name is Castiel, Gabriel, and why exactly is it so important for you to go? Castiel did not tell me last night what sort of problem Dean was having." Their father stood up and made his way across the room, coming to a halt when he reached the brothers. When neither of them responded right away, he asked, "Well?"

Castiel took a deep breath and nodded. "Dean's been in rough emotional shape lately, and I need to support him." He frowned. "And right now, I really need to get over there. He didn't pick up when I returned his call," he informed his brother. 

Gabriel gasped softly and looked their father square in the eye. "We are leaving. We have to." Without waiting for a response, he led Castiel out the door. When Castiel looked back, he saw their father staring after them, but there was no anger on his face. There was only concern. Castiel was pleasantly surprised by this, but that sensation was swiftly drowned out when his phone rang as they got in the car.

He checked the caller ID and picked up instantly. "Dean. What is it? Are you okay?" Gabriel paused with the key in the ignition and motioned for Castiel to put the call on speaker. Without thinking about it, Castiel obeyed. "Also, you're on speaker with Gabriel."

Without missing a beat, Dean responded, "Hey, Cas. Hey Gabe. I'm fine, don't worry about me." At that, Gabriel finished turning the key. "No, I just wanted to hear your voice earlier, but there was no answer."

"I'm sorry, Dean. Dad is in town and you know how he is about church. Speaking of, I can't come to school tomorrow. Lucifer is going to be back, and all of us have to be home for that." Castiel sent up a prayer that Dean would not be too upset. 

After a rather long pause, Dean said, "All right, Cas. I'll be fine tomorrow. Don't worry."

"Promise me you will call if anything happens, Dean. If you even get lonely. Call me, text me, whatever. Please." Castiel knew he most likely sounded petulant, but at this point he did not care. He only wanted his Dean to be okay. Gabriel put the car in drive.

Castiel heard a chuckle on the other end of the line. Dean answered, "Of course I will, Cas. You and your brother saved my life, and now everyone wants me to check in with them all the friggin' time." Castiel detected a note of bitterness. "So of course I will call you. I love you."

Castiel felt tears coming to his eyes, and his voice cracked as he said, "I love you too, Dean. Be safe."

Dean sighed. "Always." _Click._

Castiel felt a tear on his cheek, which he wiped away. "Turn off the car, we are not going." 

Gabriel took the car out of drive. "If you say so, Cassie." He turned the car off. "I'll trust you on that."

They both got out of the car and went back inside. Their father was nowhere in sight, for which Castiel was relieved. He did not want to face him again so soon. He climbed the stairs quietly and went to his room. Grabbing his history textbook from the desk, he sprawled on his bed and started reading the chapter he assumed would be discussed the following day. Always better to keep up. If his father had not been home, he would have played music, but he knew his father would be unhappy with his musical taste, so he didn't.

Instead, he studied in silence basically until dinnertime. He exchanged some texts with Dean, but not many. Just enough to keep tabs on his boyfriend and make sure he was doing okay. After dinner, he went straight back up to his room and (he had no idea how) fell directly asleep.

He didn't know it, but in the night, Gabriel came by every hour to check his text messages and make sure Dean had not attempted to contact Castiel. There were never any messages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! ❤


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot suddenly came together for me just now while I was writing, so perhaps this isn't coming to an end anytime soon. Thank you for the comments, kudos, and subscriptions!

Morning came with the incessant blare of an alarm clock. Castiel reached over and smacked it a couple times until it stopped ringing, then rolled back face-first into his pillow. He wanted to drift back off to sleep, but he knew he would not be able to do that. He groaned and pushed himself onto his back, then sat up. The clock read 6:00 am, and he frowned deeply. He was not going to school today; why had he set the alarm so damn early?

He was not going to school today. That was why. He leapt out of bed and rummaged on the top of his dresser to find his cell phone. There were no messages for him, so he sent one.

>>Good morning, Dean. I hope you will have a good day. If you need anything, let me know.

He went to the bathroom and stripped out of his dress clothes from the previous day. He was really going to have to work on changing before bed. Then again, he had not meant to fall asleep as early as he had, so he figured he was just having a more exhausting time of it than usual. That was probably to be expected, he reasoned. With everything that was happening, no one would be completely alert and awake all the time.

He stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over his body until he felt awake. Then he turned the water cooler and washed himself. By the time he was out of the shower, Michael was standing outside the door, a deep scowl on his face. “Finally. You realize we all need to use the bathroom, right, Castiel?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Sure, Michael. I am so sorry I took a shower before our brother came home.” He marched past Michael down the hallway into his own room, towel wrapped tightly around himself.

The first thing he did after he shut his bedroom door was check his phone. Dean had sent a response about five minutes previously.

morning cas :) i will def let you know, no worries>> <<All right. I love you <3

Castiel hit send and set down his phone. He pulled on some boxers and opened up his closet. His father would definitely want him dressed well for their brother’s return. He decided on a white button-down and jeans, hoping his father would not expect him to change in favor of something dressier. It was Lucifer, for pity’s sake. The instant he was able to dress as he wished to, he was going to be in dark skinny jeans and band t-shirts.

He stretched, arching his back, and checked his phone again, in case he had missed a text. There was not a message waiting, so he slipped his phone into his pocket and went downstairs. Gabriel was waiting in the kitchen, a frown on his face as he dished out a bowl of fruit salad. “Hi, Cassie. Care for some fruit salad? I managed to get some Cool Whip into it.” His tone was flat.

Castiel chuckled. “I would greatly enjoy some fruit salad, Gabriel.” He took the offered bowl and started eating while staring at the doorway for Michael and his father to walk through. He was halfway through the bowl when his father entered, followed closely by his older brother. Each of them took a bowl of fruit salad and ate it silently.

Gabriel put the bowl in the sink and rinsed it out. “Are we all going to pick up Luci?”

“His name is Lucifer, Gabriel. And no. Michael and I will be going to pick him up as soon as we are finished eating.” With that, their father placed his last bite in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed slowly. He stood and took his bowl to the sink, rinsing it just as Gabriel had.

Michael soon followed, shooting a smile at Gabriel and Castiel as he tied his shoes. “I get my brother back today,” he said, and Castiel could not help but smile back at the absolute elation in Michael's voice. 

Their father and Michael left, and Gabriel heaved a great sigh of relief. He ran upstairs. Castiel laughed nervously, but understood immediately when Gabriel came downstairs bearing two large chocolate bars. "Want one?"

"Gabriel, you really should eat something substantial. It is breakfast, after all." Castiel smiled as Gabriel shook his head. "To each their own, then," he said before going upstairs and checking his phone. Dean still hadn't texted him, and it was close to eight. He pressed call, but hung up immediately. Dean had promised he would tell Castiel if he needed anything. If Castiel called now, it would be nagging, and Castiel really did not want to be that boyfriend, the one who would not stop calling and texting and being generally clingy.

Soon, Castiel heard the door open downstairs, and Michael calling, "Castiel! Where are you?" Castiel ran down the stairs, at once terrified and excited to see his brother in this setting again. Last time...no, don't think about last time. His brother was back. His brother was home.

Lucifer stood between Michael and their father, a smile on his face. He had Gabriel in an embrace, but his eyes locked with Castiel's the second he entered the room. "Hello, brother."

Castiel stopped dead at the smooth and flat sound of his brother's voice. "Lucifer." He had not quite believed it that Lucifer was coming home, but he was really here. Castiel took a tentative step forward as Gabriel stepped back. Lucifer spread his arms and Castiel ran into them, tears in his eyes. He was real. Castiel had been dreaming of this day since his brother left. He needed his best friend back.

"How are you today, little brother?" Lucifer held Castiel by the shoulders and gave him an appraising look.

"Far better now," Cas responded, completely honestly. "Far better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's back!!! Let me know what you thinj?!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back to Dean's perspective for this one! I hope you like it!
> 
> Triggers: mentions of suicidal ideation.
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting, subscribing, bookmarking, and giving kudos! 
> 
> Thanks to [Amahami](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Amahami) for detail help, as usual!

Dean was annoyed, there was no way around it. He wasn't angry, though. Honestly, he would be just as aggravated if the situation were reversed and Sam, Gabriel, Cas, Bobby, or Ellen had done what he had. But why did they all have to be so damn _present_ all the time? They never gave him a moment's peace.

If he went to the bathroom, someone was always right outside. Usually it was Sam...and that wasn't too awkward, given that he was his brother. But when it was Ellen or Bobby, he just wanted them to leave him alone. He wasn't going to do anything. But it made him really anxious, and he did not enjoy that sensation.

That was why he was actually happy about going to school. The thought of having no one panicking about him at all hours of the day was refreshing. And if they tried to text him or call him, he could pull the "I'm in class" excuse and everything would be okay. Plus, he would have people surrounding him, so maybe his family could calm down about him finding somewhere secluded to hurt himself. But dammit he kept his promises. And he had promised Cas he would talk to him when he was feeling down enough to do anything.

Sam followed him out the door to the Impala after breakfast. "You sure you're all right to drive, Dean?"

That was the final straw. The straw that broke the camel's back, and he had been carrying quite a load already. "I'm not going to crash the friggin' car, Sam. Look at her. She's a thing of beauty. Why the hell would I crash her?"

Sam looked taken aback. "I was just trying to help," he said, as though that could possibly change anything.

"Well stop. I'm done." Dean got in the car and slammed the door shut. Sam followed quickly, and Dean continued, "I told you. I told Cas. I told Bobby and Ellen. Hell, I even told Gabriel. I am fine. I'm coping. So back off. I will let you know if I need help. All right?" Dean started the car and put it in drive.

"Dean, I-" Sam began, but Dean shot him a look, and he shut his mouth, shaking his head. He sat back in the seat, and didn't open his mouth the entire way to school.

When they got to school, Sam insisted on walking him to his locker, and then to Ms. Bradbury's class. The redheaded woman stood up as Dean entered the room and waved him over.

Dean rolled his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. His teachers knew. Today was going to be hell after all. "Yes, Ms. Bradbury?" he said as he reached her desk. This was the first time he had ever seen the desk up close, and it was awesome. He found himself staring at the different Pop! Vinyl figures she had on her desk, ranging from Game of Thrones characters to Star Wars characters to Lord of the Rings characters. When he looked back up at her face, she was grinning.

"Dean, Ellen called me about what happened yesterday and asked me to keep an eye on you," she said. She moved to put a hand on Dean's shoulder, but Dean moved away. "I get it. I do. You don't want people concerned about you. You don't think you deserve it."

Dean glared at her. "Don't try to diagnose me, Ms. Bradbury. You don't know me." He crossed his arms and continued glaring.

Ms. Bradbury was unfazed. "I don't know you?" She laughed a little. "Dean, you have been in my class for four years. I know you."

"How many other teachers did Ellen call?" 

"She told me I was the only one. She said you trusted me. Do you trust me, Dean?" Ms. Bradbury smiled winningly at him. 

Dean thought back through the past years. He had never been especially close to Ms. Bradbury. She was actually kind of intimidating, even though she was slight and nerdy. She had an air of mystery to her, and the entire class suspected she was really some kind of super hacker that used teaching as a cover. 

But she also inspired confidence in him. If Ellen had called any of his teachers, he was glad it was Ms. Bradbury. He figured she could keep it a secret. "Yeah," he said. "I trust you."

"Good," she said briskly, pulling him down to the chair next to her desk as she sank into her swivel chair. "Now that we've got that settled, no, I haven't told any of your other teachers, and I don't plan on it." Dean looked at her in astonishment. A teacher that didn't go blabbing to all the others? She was a blessing. "I do want you to check in with me at lunch and let me know how your day is going. Also, I did send out an email telling your teachers to give you a pass on phone use. You don't need to be disconnected from your support system now."

Dean nodded along. She was awesome! How was he only finding this out now? "I'll definitely check in at lunch, Ms. Bradbury, you don't need to worry. Thank you."

"Anytime, Dean. Hey, why don't you sit a little closer to me today? Maybe by Meg?" She grinned at him. "That way, I can keep a better eye and fulfill my promise to Ellen. What do you say?"

"Sure." He shrugged. He had never talked to Meg, either. Well, except for the time he told her to stay away from his boyfriend, who she obviously had a major crush on. She kept calling him an angel. Or Clarence. Who, according to Sam, was the angel in some old movie. 

He looked at the dark haired girl and back at Ms. Bradbury, who set a hand on his shoulder. This time, he didn't move away. "Remember to check in at lunch. Hey, why don't you bring your lunch in here?" She scribbled a note on a Post it and handed it to him. "This will get you out of the cafeteria. We can watch something while we eat."

Dean's eyes widened and he genuinely grinned. He looked at the note and back up at his teacher's smiling face. "Really? I will _definitely_ do that." When Ms. Bradbury smiled back, he stood up, grabbing his backpack from the floor, and made his way to the seat next to Meg Masters.

She was typing away, and, since class hadn't started, Dean looked curiously at her screen. He looked away quickly in embarrassment, but she didn't seem to have seen him looking, so he read the paragraph he was typing. He held back a chuckle as he said, "Though Captain Jack does have a thing for sleeping with anything that lets him, I doubt he would do so with Mussolini" 

Meg minimized the window immediately and turned to glare at him. "What the hell do you know about it?"

"Hey, to each their own. You enjoy shipping Jack and Mussolini, I enjoy the somewhat-past-subtext between Nine and Ten, Rose, and Jack." 

Meg rolled her eyes. "Lacking in creativity, are we?" 

Dean shrugged. "Not really. It can get _very_ creative with the three of them." Ms. Bradbury cleared her throat and Dean shut his mouth, logging into his computer swiftly. He pulled up his school email, but there was nothing waiting for him. Whatever. 

Someone tapped him on the shoulder right after the minute bell rang, and he flinched slightly as he turned around. The exchange student from...from...wherever in the British Isles he was from was standing behind him, scowling. Dean suddenly remembered his name. "What do you want, Crowley?"

Crowley crossed his arms. "I want my bloody seat." 

Dean smiled his most winning smile. "Ms. Bradbury placed me here." Crowley frowned, but it was a shallow frown. "If you have a problem, you can take it up with her."

Crowley shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I'll just take the seat next to you." He motioned to Meg, who was watching the exchange with interest. 

At the imperious gesture, she laughed. "Keep telling yourself that, Fergus." Crowley's frown deepened and he crossed the room away from them. "He'll be back," she said with a chuckle. "Doesn't know when to give up."

Dean smiled. He might grow to like this girl. Maybe. If she would keep her roving eyes off his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self-hatred and self harm.
> 
> Thank you guys for your comments, your kudos, and your time. <3

Sam released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Ms. Bradbury started talking to Dean. He wasn't sure why his brother had snapped at him earlier. He had only been trying to help. And honestly, he was just really worried about his brother. Why did Dean get so offended? The one minute warning bell rang, and he shook his head, focusing on getting to his English class on time.

He made with with several seconds to spare, as evidenced by the fact that Jess was still waiting for him outside the room. "Sam! I wasn't sure you were coming." She smiled, evidently pleased by his presence, but the smile soon faded as she studied his face. "Is something wrong?"

Sam chuckled. "Just some family stuff. No big deal." He shrugged, not wanting to share all his troubles with this beautiful girl just yet. Or possibly ever. No one needed to know his brother had almost died. No one needed to know it was Sam's fault. _If you tell her, she'll leave you_ , the little voice at the back of his head kept saying. _And then where will you be?_

Sam crossed his arms and dug his fingernails into the skin of his upper arm to clear his mind, but quiet whispers remained. They always remained. Jess didn't seem to notice, and for that he was thankful. He couldn't have the voice ruining his time with her. He smiled at her and coughed a little. "Shall we go inside before the bell rings?" he asked.

Jess laughed. "Oh, probably. That might actually be a good idea, Sam." The way she said his name made tingles run up Sam's spine. She reached out and took his hand, and for once since Dean had driven away, his head was silent. 

...................................................................................................................................................................................

Meg proved to be correct. Crowley approached Dean and Meg again after class. "Glad to see you two getting all buddy-buddy then." He looked Meg directly in the eye as he said to Dean, "Too bad she's aiming to steal your precious boyfriend."

Meg simply tilted her head and grinned right back at Crowley's honeyed smile. "Funny hearing that from the guy who hasn't shut up about _the sexy green eyed boy at the back of the room_ since he first laid eyes on him."

Dean stared at her for a moment before turning his eyes more critically toward the boy standing in front of him. Crowley had a deep flush on his face that he seemed to be struggling to control. Dean did not say a word. He decided it was a better idea to let Meg and Crowley have their little feud without him being involved.

However, Crowley did not make that easy for him. "Oh, you're one to talk. _Clarence_ this and _Clarence_ that, it's a wonder Dean here didn't hear your gushing over _Clarence_ all day!"

Dean took a deep breath. "That's enough. You," he looked at Meg, "stay away from my boyfriend or so help me I will end you. And you," he looked at Crowley, "I'm flattered. But Cas would say the same thing to you that I just said to Meg." He chuckled. "Now that that is settled—"

Meg snorted. "Settled?" She crossed her arms. "Listen, Dean, there was nothing to settle. So what if I like Clarence? He's your boyfriend and it isn't like I'm going to steal him." 

Crowley let go a full on laugh. "Sure, Meg." The rivalry between them was something to see. But Dean felt more inclined to believe Crowley on this one. Meg had a reputation for stealing boyfriends and girlfriends. Last year, she had reputably broken up Ruby Cortese and Lilith Boecher by sleeping with both of them...on the same night. After that, Meg was rumored to have kept up a relationship with each of them (the popular theory was that they all had sex with each other for a while before deciding to go their separate ways). So forgive him if he seemed disbelieving of Meg's claim to not want to take Cas away from him. 

To tell the truth, Dean was almost relieved to be part of this interaction, because he couldn't just leave it. It gave him an outlet for some of his more destructive energy. The three of them walked out of the computer lab together, Dean in the middle of their bickering. On their way upstairs to their lockers, the three ran into Sam and Jess, who were holding hands, Dean smugly noted. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed before turning his head to look at Jess and untangling his hand from hers. "I've got to talk to my brother. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, I'll come sit with you at lunch," Jess responded, a twinkle in her eye. "Have fun." She smiled softly as she made her way around Dean, Crowley, and Meg and toward her class.

Dean sighed. "All right, guys, I'll catch you later." It wasn't as though he had really been paying attention anyway. 

Meg simply nodded and walked away, making a beeline for her locker. But Crowley commented, "Have to talk to your moose, huh?" before leaving, without waiting for a response. Dean followed Sam to their shared tall locker for their inevitable conversation.

"I didn't mean to offend you about the car, Dean," Sam started. Dean shook his head and didn't answer. He didn't feel the need. Instead, he just grabbed his biology textbook and headed to class. Sam followed behind him. "Dean, what did I do? I was only trying to help."

Dean spun around and hissed, "You texted Gabriel. That's what you did." Sam's eyes widened and Dean could see tears welling up in them. But at this point, he couldn't care less. "You saved my damn life." He stepped forward and jabbed a finger into his brother's collarbone. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't be in this mess of a school, in our mess of a family, none of it." Tears began leaking from Sam's eyes. "And then you had the _nerve_ to suggest I would crash Baby. And dammit with you in it. How _dare_ you?" Dean crossed his arms, breathing heavily. Sam was close to sobs, he could see that. Just another horrible thing he had done. Just another reason he should be dead. His brother closed in on himself for an instant. Dean watched his face crumple before Sam fled down the hallway away from him. As it should be, Dean thought.

As it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: self-loathing of the Dean variety.
> 
> Thank you guys for reading and commenting and being generally awesome! <3

Sam went straight to the office downstairs and asked to use their phone. They didn’t even ask questions, which was odd, but Sam didn’t think much of it as he dialed Cas’s cell phone number. 

It rang. And rang. And rang. Sam was about to give up hope that Cas would be able to come to the phone when finally the familiar low voice said, “Hello?”

“Cas, it’s Sam.” Sam became aware that he was close to breathless. Oh well. At least he wasn’t crying. He had come close, but had swallowed that back.

There was a beat before Cas replied, “What happened? Are you okay? Is Dean okay?”

“I didn’t know if calling you was appropriate. But Dean just went off on me about contacting Gabriel.” Sam shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have called Cas. This was probably a bad idea.

Cas’s voice was filled with concern. “What did he say?” 

“He said it’s my fault he’s still alive. In our mess of a family. I did the right thing, though, didn’t I?” Yes, of course he did. He couldn’t just let his brother die. That wouldn’t make him much of a brother, now, would it?

“You did the right thing, Sam. I would have done the same. Where is Dean?” 

“I left him going to his biology class. He obviously didn’t want my company.” The question made Sam feel weird about leaving the way he did, since really, Dean probably shouldn't be alone. But he wasn't really alone, was he? School was crowded. He wouldn't do anything here.

Cas didn't answer for a moment. "I wish I could be there today." Sam didn't know how to answer that, but it was okay, because Cas kept talking. "Why it had to be today that Lucifer came home I do not know. He is my brother and I love him, but I wish I did not have to stay home from school on this of all days."

"Oh, yeah, Cas, I had almost forgotten, honestly. How is your brother doing?" Lucifer had been in that hospital for months, but Sam wasn't entirely sure why. The Novak clan never talked about it. 

"He is well. He has been in Michael's room practically since he got back. I suppose they have a lot to catch up on now that they are unsupervised." Cas almost sounded bitter, but the office people were looking at him impatiently. 

"That's pretty understandable. But I have to go. Class, and all that." Sam felt bad having to hang up, but he had to. 

Cas responded, "All right. Call me if you need me."

"Of course." Cas was the one who hung up. Sam heaved a sigh and put the phone down on the receiver. "Thanks," he said to the woman at the desk before he went back upstairs to his locker, and then off to his algebra class. 

................................................................................................................................................

Dean felt absolutely horrible for going off on Sam the way he had. What gave him the right to hurt his brother? He made his way to the biology room, sitting in the back, as usual, and buried his head in his hands. Sam had been about to cry. He had almost made his brother cry. If anyone else had done the same thing, Dean would have ripped his lungs out. Why should it be any different now that it was Dean doing that to his brother?

While the teacher droned on, Dean dug his phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a while. Should he text Cas? Probably not, he was most likely with his brother. And far be it from Dean to keep Cas from his brother after he hurt his own. And then it buzzed. **New message from Cas**. He opened the message immediately. 

>>Sam called me. Are you well?

He thought about the question for a while before responding.

well enough. hows your brother?<<

>>He is home and speaking to Michael. Well enough?

you know what i said to sam. yeah i'll classify myself as well enough<<

>>Dean, I believe you may be classifying yourself incorrectly. If you were "well enough," you would never have said that to Sam.

no, you know, you're right. but i'm in class so i have to go before brown takes my phone<<

>>Text me after class, then. Please.

fine<<

Dean slipped his phone back into his pocket and sighed. He probably wouldn't text Cas after class, if he was being honest with himself. But he wasn't going to tell his boyfriend that. Okay, so maybe he would. But he didn't know how that would go. It might be easier just to break up with him. He didn't deserve Cas anyway. And besides, he was still pretty shocked Cas hadn't left him completely after Dean told him he never loved him. He knew how messed up that was to do to the boy, and still hadn't forgiven himself. Maybe he should just finish the job. 

Yes, that seemed to be the way to go. That way he and Cas could go their separate ways before Dean just hurt him more. Cas wouldn't understand, but he didn't need to. He just needed to be safe from Dean. Dean was poison. He had killed his mother, he had killed his father, and dammit he wasn't going to hurt anyone else. He just needed them to leave him alone. Cas didn't need someone in his life that would keep tearing him down. He needed to be free to pursue his interests. 

Dean knew he still needed Cas desperately, but Cas didn't need to know that. Dean needed Cas to feel comfortable leaving. So he actually would text him, but he would try to make it clear there that a breakup was coming without telling him directly. Cas didn't need that today, of all days. Lucifer was home for the first time in months, and Dean wanted Castiel to enjoy that as much as possibly before he hurt him for the last time. In the end, Cas would be happier. 

Or so Dean told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought about this chapter!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this story. As of now, I'm changing the title to "Light 'Em Up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Self-harm, mentions of suicide, self-loathing
> 
> This has been great, guys!

Lucifer and Michael were having some sort of conference or something in Michael's bedroom, Castiel guessed. Why else would Lucifer have barely looked at him after the initial greeting? He had just gone upstairs with Michael and had not come out of Michael's room since. Occasionally, he could hear chuckles across the hall, but other than that, their voices were low whispers, as though what they were saying was a complete secret. That was weird. Father had taught them never to keep secrets from each other. 

It seemed to be ages after Dean had told Castiel he was in class that Michael's door finally opened and Lucifer came out, followed by his brother. Michael went downstairs, but Lucifer simply crossed the hall and entered Castiel's room, knocking as he came in. "Hello, brother."

Castiel smiled at him. "Lucifer." He patted the space on the bed next to him. Lucifer walked over and sat where Castiel indicated. "How was your talk with Michael?"

Lucifer shrugged. "As was to be expected," he said without explanation. "What have you been doing since I left?" He stared at Castiel with piercing eyes, and Castiel felt compelled to tell the truth.

He swallowed that back, however, and said, "I helped my friend get out of an abusive household."

"Would this perhaps be Dean Winchester?" Lucifer asked.

"Yes." Castiel crossed his arms.

Lucifer's eyes glittered. "You know, I heard that John Winchester committed suicide." Castiel shifted uncomfortably. "Could little Castiel perhaps have had something to do with that?" 

Lucifer nudged Castiel and looked directly into his eyes. Castiel knew if he lied, Lucifer would know. He had always been excellent at detecting lies. "Yes," he said quietly. "I did."

Lucifer's mouth widened into a grin. "Castiel. We are more alike than I thought. Did you kill him or simply convince him it was the better option."

Castiel muttered, "I killed him." He felt a certain amount of shame. He had committed murder. He had killed a human being, and that was never a good thing to do. 

"And you made it look that professional?" Lucifer sounded genuinely impressed. "The police dropped the case as a suicide almost immediately. You've never done this before?"

Castiel shook his head, trepidation rising. "I just got so angry. I knew I needed to do something."

"Well, you did something." Castiel felt tears forming in his eyes, and his older brother put an arm around his shoulder and drew his head close. "Don't be sad, Castiel. Everything is going to be all right. No one is going to find out. Trust me, I saw the autopsy report. You did well."

Castiel felt the first tears fall. He had made a murder look like a professional killing. How had he done that? "I cannot believe I killed him, Lucifer. It feels so heavy."

"That is called guilt, Castiel, and is unnecessary for you to feel." Castiel looked at his brother. "It runs in your blood. Nothing bad is going to happen because of it. You protected what is yours from an attacker."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What is mine?"

"Well, yes. Dean and you are together, are you not?" Lucifer smiled, and Castiel's eyes widened.

"How did you know that?" Castiel began to panic. What if his father knew? His father was so against it. What if he knew?

Lucifer laughed. "Don't you worry. Father doesn't know." He patted Castiel's head. "The way you talked about saving him made it clear to me."

Castiel smiled, then, and simply relaxed against his brother, who stayed in his room for close to an hour. He was worried about Dean, who had not ended up texting him after his class, but his brother was a calming presence. They did not talk about anything, instead basically cuddling until it was time for lunch. 

Lucifer grinned at his brother as the downstairs clock struck twelve. "Do you want to go out for lunch? I haven't had a sandwich from that cafe down by the bookshop in ages."

Castiel nodded and stood up. "That sounds fine to me. Let's go."

...........................................................................................................................................................

Sam was still pretty upset as he entered the cafeteria for lunch. Upset and worried. He was sure Dean would be fine while he was at school, but Sam was unsure of what his outburst meant for his current mental state. He was volatile as all hell, for one thing, and that really worried Sam. But Sam was also kind of frightened. He didn't want to provoke his brother again. 

That was why, when Sam saw Dean exiting the cafeteria with a tray of food, he didn't chase him down to make sure he was all right and to ask him where he was going. He just let his brother go as he got in line for a hot meal. Well, kind of hot. The name said hot. The food was hot dogs today, and they even had chili to go on top of them. The chili was actually hot, steaming as it came out of the pot they had set up. He smothered his hot dog in the stuff before starting to search for a seat. 

He looked around for a bit before he saw Jess, with an open seat next to her. He grinned and made his way over there, setting down his tray before asking, "Is this seat taken?"

"It is now," Jess said with a smile. "Have a seat." 

Sam did so, slinging his backpack onto the ground under the bench. "How has your day been?" he asked. He started eating his chili dog as he listened.

Jess talked about her art class and its new focus on sculpture instead of painting. "Actually, we're supposed to sculpt a bust for our homework. Everyone is bringing in photos of people they admire tomorrow." She turned and dug around in her bag, coming out with a digital camera. "Do you mind?"

Sam's eyes widened a bit as he glanced around him. "Um, you want to sculpt my head?"

Jess laughed. "Yes?" She blushed red and started to turn around to put the camera back in her bag. "I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry..."

"No, I'll do it," Sam said, smiling wide. "I was just surprised, that's all. No one has ever asked me if they could sculpt me before." 

Jess grinned back at him. "All right then." She started giving directions for how Sam needed to turn his head and snapping pictures, some with flash, some without. Soon she said, "Done," and put the camera back in her bag. "Thank you."

"No problem," he said. Soon after that, the bell rang, and he looked down at his half-eaten chili dog in dismay. Oh well, he thought. Those pictures were more important anyway.

The pair got up. Jess walked with Sam to dump his tray, and they exited the cafeteria together hand-in-hand. Sam walked Jess to her classroom and hugged her outside. "Have a good class," he said.

"You too," she replied, before rising up on tiptoe to press a kiss against his cheek. She turned and went inside before Sam could react, leaving the boy with a rising blush on his face as he went to his own class.

......................................................................................................................................................................

Dean made his way absentmindedly to the cafeteria, post-it note clenched in his hand. He went through the line and presented the note to the supervisor, who nodded and sent him on his way. He made his way down the hall with his to-go tray and went into the computer lab, where Ms. Bradbury waited with none other than _Legend of Korra_ waiting on the screen. 

He chuckled as he took a seat next to the teacher. "You know, _Avatar_ is way better than this." He opened up his tray and started in on the chili dog that rested therein. 

Ms. Bradbury laughed. "I know. But I felt like watching _Korra_ today. Would you like me to change it?"

"Nah. This is fine. I wasn't expecting you to be a _Korra_ fan." Dean smiled at her, but the piercing gaze behind her smile made him think she knew the smile was fake. 

She reached under her desk and pulled her lunch bag up. She opened it, then clicked play on the cartoon. They ate in silence. Dean wasn't really paying attention to what was happening on the screen, and Ms. Bradbury didn't seem to expect him to. Instead, he thought about Cas, and what his reaction might be if Dean texted him a breakup versus called him. He knew neither was a good way to go about it, but he really didn't want to face his boyfriend as he did this.

Besides, he needed to go home after school anyway, he reasoned. There were no pros of texting him a breakup beyond not having to hear his voice, but Dean really wanted to hear his voice one last time before he delivered the news. He knew quite well that this would be hurting his boyfriend, but in the long run it would help him. Dean decided to call him. It still wasn't face to face, but it wasn't quite as insulting as a text might be. Cas meant quite a bit to Dean...he didn't want to just blow him off. That would be wrong. 

The bell rang shortly after the episode ended, and Ms. Bradbury reminded Dean to check in with her right after school so she could make sure he was doing all right, then sent him on his merry way to Algebra class. He walked quicker, knowledge that he had a plan to deal with Cas lightening the load on him. 

.............................................................................................................................................................................

Cas found himself wondering toward the end of the day whether Dean would decide to come over. He really wanted to see his boyfriend and make sure he was doing well. After lunch, he had simply gone back up to his room and plugged his earbuds in, doing the assignments his teachers had emailed him that morning. Lucifer had talked to Gabriel for a while, but he and Michael were back in Michael's room now. 

Castiel was hard at work on the English essay he had been assigned when 3:45 rolled around. His cell phone started buzzing the alarm, and he shut the alarm off. He was expecting to hear from Dean any time now. But it wasn't until about 4:30 that his phone rang.

.................................................................................................................................................................................

Sam's last class of the day was his chemistry class. He hadn't had a chemistry partner assigned yet, so the chair beside him was empty. Today, though, a dark haired girl who hadn't been in the class before waltzed through the door and handed a paper to the instructor. He looked at it, then back at her. "All right, Ruby, pick a seat."

She looked around. Everyone had already been assigned their partner but Sam, so she made her way through the mess of tables to sit right next to him. "Name's Ruby," she said with a wolfish smile. 

"I know," Sam said. "Your reputation precedes you." He was trying to stay cold toward her, but she was absolutely gorgeous. No, Sam, think about Jess. _Oh, come on, Sam. Live a little._

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And what reputation might that be?" She crossed her arms over her breasts and stared Sam down. 

He licked his lips, which had suddenly gone dry along with the rest of his mouth. "Nothing, really." He cursed his stupidity as her eyes glittered in response. "Only that you tend to use your assets to get your own way." And now that the toned-down truth was in the open, Sam relaxed slightly.

Her eyes warmed a bit, and her poster relaxed. She stretched her arms above her head, revealing her midriff. Sam didn't look. He didn't. _You did, Sam. Give in to it._ Sam yawned and turned his attention to the teacher as he clenched his fists under the table, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm. He liked Jess, dammit. He liked Jess.

.................................................................................................................................................................................

Dean stood leaning against the driver's door to the Impala, keys resting in his hand as he waited for his brother to come out of the building. He did so, alone, to Dean's surprise. He made his way down into the parking lot. As he reached the car, Dean asked, "No Jess?" 

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Dean, she had choir practice." The excuse seemed flimsy to Dean, but he ignored it, especially given the tired look in his brother's eyes and the way he held his hands in fists at his side. Dean didn't ask. If Sam needed help, he would ask for it. 

"All right. Let's get home, then." Sam nodded and climbed into the car, leaning his head against the window. Dean drove them home. Bobby and Ellen were waiting at the door for the boys, and they each gave Dean a hug and asked him how his day was. Dean blew them off (for which he felt guilty, but he needed to make a phone call) and went up to his room. "I need to call Cas, guys. I'll be down in a bit."

He climbed the stairs, digging his phone out of his jeans pocket as he went. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for, then pressed the call button.

Cas picked up immediately. "Hello, Dean," he said. 

"Cas, hey. I wanted to talk to you," Dean said. Anticipation was building in his stomach, and he felt sick. 

There was a pause. "About what?"

Dean took a breath. "This isn't working."

"What isn't working?"

"Us." Dean hoped Cas wouldn't make him come out and say it. 

"Are you breaking up with me, Dean?" There was a slight tremble in Cas's voice.

Dammit, he was going to have to say it. Dean forced himself to remember that this would be a onetime hurt, not the pain that would come of Cas having to deal with him all the time. "Yes. I think that would be best."

Dean heard Cas let out a little cry. "Why?" 

He steeled himself for his next statement. "I'm broken, Cas. I'm just going to hurt you more. This is for you." Cas was breathing short, sharp breaths. With a jolt, Dean realized he was crying. "No, please, Cas, don't cry."

"I have to go, Dean. I think I hear my father calling." That was a blatant lie, and Dean could tell. 

He wiped a single tear from his cheek. "Goodbye, Cas." _Click._ Cas hung up without saying anything else, and Dean collapsed back on his bed. 

Anger grew in him. Anger at himself, anger at Bobby, Ellen, Sam, Gabriel, anger at Cas, and even anger at John. Damn it all, Dean was angry with the entire world. He stood up, scowling, with tears in his eyes, and went downstairs. He brushed past Bobby and Ellen, who didn't try to hinder him as he went out to where the Impala was parked in the lot.

On his way, he picked up a crowbar. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with the instrument, but soon he found himself in front of his baby with an instrument of destruction in his hand. Sam had asked him if he would be okay to drive. He had responded with such indignation at the very suggestion that he would hurt Baby. 

Baby had been John's car. Sure, Dean had loved it, but as long as it sat there, John sat there, watching Dean just as much as he ever had. 

Dean was going to live. He realized this. They were going to keep such a close eye on him as to render any attempt to the contrary useless. This was all he could do. He stepped up the the black beauty and weighed the crowbar in his hand. 

Without thinking, he slammed the crowbar into the hood of the car. It's just a car. Just a car. Cars can be damaged. He slammed it down over and over again, all over the car, smashing in every window, denting everywhere he could. The engine was smoking by the time he was done. It felt phenomenal while he was doing it, but when he took a step back, the full enormity of what he had just done hit him, and he staggered forward, falling to his knees in front of his baby. "I'm sorry, Baby," he whispered.

.....................................................................................................................................................................

Sam heard the crashing and went outside, but was not expecting what he saw. And as Dean hit the ground, he walked forward softly, so as not to disturb his older brother. He sat beside him and put an arm over his shoulder. Dean didn't move, just kept his head in his hands. When he finally looked up at Sam, Sam said, "Do you feel any better?"

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes and whispered, "Dammit, Sammy...I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am writing a sequel to this, don't worry! Everything will end up resolved (eventually). Please let me know what you guys think!


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